I 



ENGLISH ITEMS: 



OR, 



MICROSCOPIC VIEWS 



ENGLAND AND ENGLISHMEN 



BY 



MATT. F. WARD, 

AUTHOR OP "letters FROM THREE CONTINENTS.' 



NEW-YORK : 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 



200 BKOADWAT. 
M.DOCC.LIIL 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 

D. APPLETON & CO., 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District 
New-York. 



THE LIBRARY 
OF CONGRESS 

WASHINOTOVJ 



TO 

J. J. HUan E S, ESQ., 

Cliis mi^ is MltM, 

AS 

A SLIGHT TESTIMONIAL OF SINCERE FRIENDSHIP 

AND 

HIGH RESPECT. 

• MATT. F. WARD. 



CONTENTS 



♦ ♦ » 



PAGE 

CHAPTER I. 
OuE Individual Relations with England . . 9 



CHAPTER II. 
Sixpenny Miracles in England 22 

CHAPTER III. 
The Custom-House 68 

CHAPTER IV. 
Rural Scenery 71 

CHAPTER V. 
English Writers on America 83 

CHAPTER VI. 
English Manners 209 

CHAPTER VII. 
English Devotion to Dinner 228 

CHAPTER VIII. 
English Gentility 245 



8 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER IX. 

Oeigin of the Chueoh of England . . . . 266 

CHAPTER X. 

Peesecution undee the Established Chueoh . . 276 

CHAPTER XL 
Present State of the Established Chueoh of England 291 

CHAPTER Xn. 
Heealdey . . . ' 337 



ENGLISH ITEMS 



CHAPTEE I. 

OUR INDIVIDUAL DELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. 

ENGLISHMEN, aud their admirers, have so carefully 
stowed away English supremacy in a nice glass box, 
guarded at every angle by portentous " hands oflF," as suc- 
cessfully to protect it from the too close scrutiny of the 
masses. Indeed, whilst it continues the custom of the Miss 
Nancies, and old women of the fashionable and literary 
worlds of America extravagantly to extol every thing Eng- 
lish, it will be deemed reprehensible temerity in any man, to 
refuse to acknowledge the received superstition. The Amer- 
ican, daring enough to assail England's claims to superiority, 
will be pronounced guilty of outrage by those of his country- 
men, too indolent or too dastardly to think for themselves. 
His sacrilege will be thought no greater by these Angli- 
cized Republicans, than that of the conqueror Antiochus, in 
the opinion of the Jews, when he boldly entered their temple 
— ordered a great sow to be sacrificed on the altar for burnt- 
offerings — and polluted the Holy of Holies, by having the 
blood of the unclean animal scattered about the sacred 
edifice. 

Before I had ever travelled beyond the confines of the 
1* 



10 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

United States, I had grown weary of the thraldom to Eng- 
lish dictation of public opinion in America. I entertained 
no great love for Englishmen, and all that I saw during my 
first visit to Europe, and what I have seen since, has not 
served to increase my affection for them. Yet I must con- 
fess that I experienced, a year or two ago, certain aguish 
sensations at my own rashness, in expressing a somewhat 
unfavorable opinion of Englishmen and their manners. It 
might have been, as a distinguished Review sagely remarked, 
an unbearable degree of impudence in an unknown individ- 
ual from Arkansas, to pretend to pronounce judgment on 
the refinements of English society. But being accustomed 
to attack rampant bears at home, I suppose the innocent 
cavortings of the British Lion seemed much less terrible to 
me, than to some of my more civilized countrymen, who had 
never seen angry beasts out of cages. Although the roar 
of this pampered Lion of England has long since ceased to 
affect us as a nation, yet no one can doubt that his complain- 
ing growls make those individuals quake amongst us, who 
pretend to a refined excess either of fashion or gentility. 
I am sorry to observe that it is becoming more and more 
the fashion, especially among " travelled " Americans, to pet 
the British beast. In defiance of his surly ways, they are 
eternally trying by flattery to coax him into good humor, 
as the boys throw apples and gingerbread to his prototype 
of the menagerie. He never fails to repay their officious 
kindness with snarling disapprobation, and always attacks the 
hand that pats him. But instead of treating him like other 
refractory brutes, they pusillanimously strive to soothe him 
by a forbearance he cannot appreciate. They never laugh 
so loudly, as when suffering from his bite, and good-natur- 
edly designate his ruthless clawings the facetious indications 
of a playful disposition. 

What beast-tamer, in his senses, ever dreamed of subdu- 



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. 11 

iDg an angry lion by soothing him ? Beasts are ruled through 
fear, not kindness. They submissively lick the hand that 
wields the lash, not the one that feeds them. So long as we 
attempt to pacify the British Lion by patting him, we shall 
be clawed and bitten. He must be treated according to his 
nature. Seize him fearlessly by the throat, and once strangle 
him into involuntary silence, and the British Lion will here- 
after be as fawning as he has hitherto been spiteful. 

It is a melancholy fact, which I am most reluctant to ac- 
knowledge even to myself, that there is a growing inclination 
towards flunkeyism, in what are termed the higher classes of 
society in America. We too frequently find the American 
recently returned from Europe, whose powers of observa- 
tion should be quickened by foreign associations, and whose 
mind should be so enlarged by studying the institutions of 
other countries, as to enable him better to understand the 
inestimable blessings of our own, expressing a captious dis- 
satisfaction with his own country. Sneering at America — 
finding fault with her people — ridiculing her manners — and 
objecting to her customs ; he professes to find nothing good 
enough for him, with the eminently flunkey hope, that those 
of his countrymen who have remained at home, will be in- 
spired with awful respect for his improved taste, and trav- 
elled cultivation. If our travelled countrymen can derive 
no higher evidence of improvement from a European tour, 
than a servile imitation of every thing they have seen in 
England, even to fault-finding with America, I sincerely 
hope they may for ever remain in the republican simplicity 
which they received from our Fathers. If no more valuable 
lesson is to be learned by Americans abroad, than that pa- 
triotism is something to be ashamed of, Democrat as I am, 
I would favor a general embargo law, to keep them at home. 
And when in spite of every precaution the citizens of the 
United States have become so cosmopolitan, by travel, as to 



12 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

deem it necessary to rail at their own country, as a proof of 
freedom from '• provincial prejudices," I hope there may be 
some newly discovered California to which I may peacefully 
emigrate. 

I mentioned above the earlier symptoms a fearfully 
spreading disease, which can only be cured I fear by cauter- 
izing. In the more advanced stages of this epidemic, 
brought among us from foreign parts, we find its victims af- 
fecting the society of transient Englishmen, who, coming to 
America arrayed in the cast-off airs of their superiors at 
home, always laugh at their too eager hosts, and make butts 
of their over-zealous admirers. These cockneys are right in 
their treatment of such despicable sycophants. Well aware 
that they are prompted by none of the higher impulses of 
hospitality, but actuated by the mean ambition of borrowing 
importance from their servility to them, these Englishmen 
have my applause, at least, for making them feel their 
degradation. Alas ! that an American freeman should sub- 
mit to be kicked by an upstart Briton, with the silly hope 
that there were people around him, silly enough to envy him 
the supposed honor of his aristocratic associations. The 
operation of kicking certainly does imply very intimate re- 
lations of position, at least, and the American flunkeys 
may be partially right in their expectations, for there are a 
few among us, who will persist in estimating an English- 
man's real rank by his pretensions, and who will not give up 
the superstition, that every thing English must necessarily 
be superior. These transient English do but obey their in- 
stincts in kicking all Americans who will allow them. The 
thing becomes a duty, no less than a recreation, when they 
happen to encounter those, who consider such a proceeding 
on their part, not only a great condescension, but an honor to 
themselves, and will apologize to the kicker, accordingly, for 
giving hira the trouble to confer it. In such instances I al- 



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. 13 

ways feel tempted to assist John Bull, though to do him 
justice, the infliction is generally made, I believe, with a very 
good will. It must be a great luxury for the poor British- 
ers, to meet with an opportunity of treating other people as 
they have always been accustomed to being treated them- 
selves. Having all their lives submitted to being kicked at 
home, they are eminently qualified to appreciate the privi- 
lege of kicking, and enjoy it accordingly. What flunkey 
would not ? An Englishman is somewhat excusable after 
all for his snobbish propensities. Born in the land of flunk- 
eydom, breathing the atmosphere, and reared amidst the 
prejudices of flunkeys, it would be unnatural, indeed, if he 
did not himself become a veritable flunkey. But what can 
be said of Americans, who, without any such apology, know- 
ingly and wilfully become the flunkeys of flunkeys, and 
toadyize toadies ? I am not a harsh man by nature, but I 
would have such renegades stretched upon the rack of pub- 
lic opinion. Traitors to themselves, their country, and her in- 
stitutions — I would take keen delight in seeing them so tor- 
tured, that their sufferings might prove a warning to all, suf- 
ficiently destitute of manhood, to follow their example. 

I mean not to intimate in the remotest manner, that 
every citizen of England who visits our country, belongs to 
the class I have alluded to, nor do I wish to be under- 
stood as insinuating, that every American who extends to an 
Englishman the ordinary civilities of society, must necessa- 
rily be a flunkey. I have myself known several English 
gentlemen, and I have no doubt there are many coming to 
America, whose social qualities would make them the wel- 
come guests of every family circle. But I regard it as an 
excess of absurdity, unworthy of us, warmly to seize every 
straggler by the hand, simply because he happens to be an 
Englishman. While our present social relations with Eng- 
lishmen at home, continue to exist, the mere fact of a man's 



14 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

being from England, so far from becoming a passport into 
the bosoms of our family circles, should be considered just 
cause for scrutinizing inquiries, as to his position and real 
character. For though we occasionally meet with a gentle- 
man from that country, yet past experience should have long 
since convinced us that we cannot be too skeptical as to 
a Britisher's claims to our hospitality, till we have some in- 
distinct idea as to what he is. A London cit, accustomed 
all his days to the degrading consciousness of inferiority, is 
so intoxicated by the unexpected attentions with which he is 
generally received in this country, that he ought scarcely to 
be considered responsible for the sneers, with which, in his 
drunken elevation, he always repays the kindness our citi- 
zens have extended to him. I am a great believer in reci- 
procity, and I would have it made as difficult for an English- 
man to gain access to the better houses of America, as they 
have made it for an American to enter the higher classes of 
society in Great Britain. So prevalent is the opinion that 
Americans are improper inmates of the fashionable houses 
of England, that I once heard a boastful English Banker 
giving as an evidence of his superior influence, his having 
actually been able to introduce a wealthy American, who 
had for nearly twenty years been a resident of London, into 
one of their clubs. If an American will consent temporarily 
to make a penny-postman of himself, and carry a small mail- 
bag of introductory letters, he may reasonably hope to en- 
joy the honor of receiving a diminutive bit of glazed paste- 
board, with some aristocratic inscription ; or if his recom- 
mendations are unusually strong, he may be inflicted with 
the oppressive distinction of a dinner. But as he enjoys no 
titular rank, he must submit to the mortification of going in 
at the tail end of all the guests, and being seated at the 
foot of the table — when positions at table are regarded as 
matters of import. Who but an Englishman would invite a 



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. 15 

man to his house to insult him ? But such is the custom in 
England. If the rights of hospitality are not considered 
superior to mere conventional usages of the country, stran- 
gers should not be compelled to suffer on account of the ab- 
surd ignorance of their hosts. If a man is worthy of an 
invitation to another's house, he certainly has a right to expect 
the treatment due to a gentleman. 

There are some of our citizens, who seem to be troubled 
with a mawkishly tender regard for the sensibilities of the 
'• dear old Mother Country." The truth must not even be 
told, for fear of giving offence to the burly inhabitants of the 
sweet land of our ancestors. What have we ever received 
from that country but injustice ? She oppressed us as col- 
onies — she twice attempted to crush us by war — and yet, 
according to these puling lovers of " the Old Country," we 
must be humbly grateful, now, because she magnanimously 
permits us to advance in power and prosperity, when she 
could not possibly restrain us. When has she ever omitted 
an opportunity of injuring us, when she could do so with 
impunity 1 She has always interfered with our commercial 
relations, when she dared. She has invariably attempted 
to shackle our progress, whilst professing to protect the 
rights of weaker nations. She has assailed us through her 
press ; slandered us in her books ; struggled to excite the 
animosity of other countries against us — and yet we must 
raise no murmur of retort, because, forsooth, she happens to 
be " the Old Country." What, I beg to be informed, is this 
" Old Country " to us that we should truckle to her ? Out 
upon those who preach this miserably servile doctrine. 
My contempt is scarcely surpassed by what the English 
must feel for them. 

There are many more of us, who, at heart love America, 
as she deserves to be loved, but have not the moral courage 
to speak out like men : the English might laugh at our 



16 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

extravagant admiration of our own country. Let them 
first prove that she does not deserve our most enthusiastic 
opinions, and I too will become as silent as the most Angli- 
cized. Britain would be delighted to shame us out of our 
patriotism, for it might, some day, give dangerous anima- 
tion to our strength. No eulogy of England could be too 
extravagant, but 'tis absurd to praise America. It seems 
to me a hard case, indeed, that Americans are to be re- 
strained from a free expression of what they think of 
America, by the apprehension of English disapprobation. 
Who appointed her censor of our opinions ? What do we 
owe her that we should so meekly bow to her mandates ? 
Not even the doubtful boon of our birth. The royal miser 
Henry VII. refused to assist Columbus in his voyage of 
discovery, and after it was accomplished without him, what 
English monarch ever essayed to people the new-found 
world? To the enterprise of Raleigh, aided by English 
tyranny towards our forefathers, we are indebted for our 
appearance among nations. Uncared for, and despised, we 
remained, until our growth made us important to the sup- 
port of our tender parent, whose earliest solicitude for the 
long-neglected foundling, was manifested by oppression. 
She first attempted to rob us by means of venal laws. She 
then tried to crush us in an uneqvial contest — and finally 
yielded to force, the rights she had meanly refused to sup- 
plication. Does such a course deserve gratitude, or con- 
tempt ? We should treat her now, as we treated her then : 
command her respect by our boldness, not beg her toleration 
by obsequious complaisance. She must feel our power 
before she will acknowledge it. So long as we attempt to 
conciliate her by meek submission to her judgment, she will 
continue to despise us. Our gentle forbearance will be 
considered weakness — and our friendly advances she will 
mistake for servility. The Bible, 'tis true, commands us 



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. l7 

to " forgive our enemies," but the English, influenced by the 
old adage of judging others by themselves, will attribute 
our complying with this Christian precept, to a want of 
spirit to resent her insults. The Quaker doctrine of " turn- 
ing the other cheek " she cannot understand. Her people 
cannot appreciate the retiring nature of true gentility, either 
in nations or individuals. They cannot conceive of a 
gentleman's being modest in his demeanor, unless from the 
consciousness of inferiority. Nor can they realize how a 
nation could fail to be blustering, except from cowardice. 

The English are eager to impress upon us the fact that 
undivided devotion to our country is " provincial." They 
kindly warn us of the danger of "narrow-minded preju- 
dices," and descant, with tumid eloquence, upon the libe- 
rality of enlarged understandings, and cultivated minds. 
They condescendingly inform us that a man, who could con- 
tinue to think " there is no place like home," would be very 
justly suspected of never having wandered beyond the limits 
of his native country. If he desires to be appreciated, as 
a traveller, and man of the world, he must give up such old- 
fashioned notions. He must take England as his model, 
and sneer at the deficiencies of America, or else he will 
incur the danger of being considered an individual of limited 
understanding, and " narrow-minded prejudices." Should 
he feel any curiosity as to what constitutes this particular 
genus of " prejudices," which is so industriously harped 
upon by Englishmen, he will discover that their ideas of 
" narrow-minded prejudices " consist iu doing justice to the 
two countries. To be " provincial " is to adhere to 
America — to display a cultivated taste, admire England. 

The English may be, in some measure, excusable for 
their own preposterous vanity, and glaring illiberality to 
other people, from the fact of their having so rarely received 
the lesson, of seeing themselves as others see them. Most 



18 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Americans who have written upon England, have been 
either flattered or bullied into drawing the most glowing 
pictures of English comfort — of English freedom — English 
society — and English every thing. One very naturally 
supposes them discoursing of a model nation, with model 
government, model manners, and model dispositions, and 
feels but little curiosity to test the depth of the gloss with 
which they have so tastefully varnished every thing in the 
country. It is not surprising, however, that England should 
wield a vast influence over men, ambitious of literary fame. 
When it is remembered how submissively the American 
public have been wont to abide by the decision of English 
critics, it ought no longer to appear strange, that aspiring 
authors should attempt to curry favor of those, in whose 
hands has been placed the power of awarding the honors of 
literary distinction. This is all wrong. America, to enjoy 
that independence, of which she may be so justly proud, 
should have her own critics, as well as her own manufac- 
turers of cotton and iron. 

There have been statesmen in our country strenuously 
to advocate the protection of home industry. Oppressive 
tariffs have been supported, in order to assist our domestic 
manufactures to compete with the foreign. But is it not 
strange, that it has never occurred to the sages of our 
Republic, that mills and foundries do not embrace the 
entire field of American industry ? Is it not extraordinary 
that it has never occurred to them, that cotton and iron are 
not the only commodities which American genius might 
work up to advantage if properly fostered 1 There is a raw 
material, ordinarily known as brains^ that we have already 
employed with success, notwithstanding the difficulties 
against which we have contended. We have already 
accomplished much, and may do more, with proper encou- 
ragement. Bryant, Halleck, Longfellow and Willis, Sparks, 



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. 19 

Prescott and Bancroft, Cooper, Irving and Mitchel, are 
master workmen, whom we may proudly compare with the 
world's best living artisans. But this industrial establish- 
ment, like all our others, is still young, and requires fostering. 

I here declare myself a protectionist — I am an advocate 
of a high tariflf too in favor of mind. American intellect 
as well as American labor deserves to be protected. Dis- 
covering our own merits, let us support them. Let us culti- 
vate a national taste, as we have established a national charac- 
ter. We have too long ago asserted our independence of 
English rulers, to continue dependent of English critics. 
We have strong native judgment ; let us exercise it as fear- 
lessly with regard to literature, as to every thing else. I 
mean not to favor a cavilling spirit, that would habitually 
condemn what England praised, and praise what England 
condemned. I merely insist upon the exercise of that dis- 
criminating power, which we possess in a sufficiently eminent 
degree, to make us certain that the expression of our na- 
tional opinion will never call a blush into the cheek of one 
of our citizens abroad. Let us not wait " with bated breath " 
for what England shall say of a work of art, before we an- 
swer with a servile echo from this side the Atlantic. We 
may be sometimes wrong, most people are, but we can at 
least be independent. 

The attempt is vain to shut our eyes to the fact, that 
England has hitherto been the model, on which we have 
dressed ourselves. No native merit, however distinguished, 
could pass current till stamped by English approbation. 
An author must be favorably noticed by English critics, 
before he can hope to be extensively read at home. An 
actor must cross the seas in search of a reputation, and most 
of our wiseacres trembly to express an opinion, which is not 
a close- cut pattern, of what has been said on the other side 
of the Atlantic. From England we borrowed our notions 



20 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of etiquette — and from tlie same notable "birthplace of ab- 
surdities, we have imported our ideas of gentility. We ran 
after Englishmen, and affected their opinions of rank. In- 
deed, England has been our oracle, whose responses were 
reverenced, like Delphi's of yore ; and few have there been, 
who, like Demosthenes, when he declared that the priestess 
" Philipized," have dared to express a doubt of their infalli- 
bility. But a revolution is commenced — this sort of thing 
is rapidly passing away ; indeed in many portions of our 
country it has wholly disappeared. There are fortunately 
many strong intellects among us, who think and speak for 
themselves of literature, and the arts, as boldly as of politics. 
I cannot but hope that a reform is at hand in the fashiona- 
ble world ; and I predict that Americans in all parts of the 
country will soon use silver forks, for some more sensible 
reason than that Englishmen have pronounced it vulgar to 
eat with a knife. 

There are those among us, who regard the attacks of the 
English with good-natured contempt, who feel amused, not 
incensed by their jealousy, and consider it unbecoming Ame- 
ricans to notice their slanders. They very properly regard 
personalities as low bred, and believe it as ungentlemanly in 
us to retort, as it is in the English to assail. For the 
opinions of such persons, I entertain so high a respect, that 
I most willingly make to them an explanation of my course, 
in the following pages, I agree with them entirely, that per- 
sonal attacks are vulgar, and that the indulgence in them^, 
by our assailants, does not justify us in their use. But in 
any warfare, we must adapt our weapons to the enemy with 
whom we are engaged, and hard blows are the only logic the 
English understand. To affect their understandings, we 
must punch their heads. "We haye acted on the defensive 
principle long enough, and if we are not ambitious of always 
.continuing the butts for newspaper jokes, and tourists' slan- 



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND. 21 

ders, we must ourselves make the attack. To procure 
peace, we must " carry the war into Africa." If we do not 
ourselves maintain our dignity, the English will scarcely do 
so for us. Towards them, we must be as stiff and unbend- 
ing as themselves. We must demand, not beg their atten- 
tion. We know what is due us ; we must insist upon re- 
ceiving it. To sum the matter up, it is time -we should 
" set up " for ourselves ; we must fulfil our destiny, without 
stopping to inquire what people in England will say. We 
have too long been in the leading strings of Grreat Britain • 
for even if we were still an infant among the nations of the 
earth, we should never walk alone, if we did not try. But 
we are no longer a child. Young as We are we have the 
strength, and let us show the independence of a man. We 
have a nationality of our own — it is our duty to support it. 
To borrow the words of the immortal Washington, — " I 
want an American character, that the powers of Europe 
may be convinced we act for ourselves^ and not for others." 



22 ENGLISH ITEMS. 



CHAPTER II. 

SIXPENNY MIEACLES IN ENGLAND. 

CJOME erudite Englishman, Mr. Leigh Hunt, perhaps, 
k3 has made the facetious discovery that one vast counter 
lines the American seaboard, from Maine to Florida. Every 
American should glory in the commercial enterprise of our 
country. In defence of our commercial rights we obtained 
our freedom. Commerce gave us the power to achieve our 
independence, and by our commerce we have so gloriously 
maintained it. But in reply to the palpable sneer of the 
funny gentleman, I will incur the danger of startling my 
readers by the novelty of an expression, for the sake of its 
force : " people who live in glass houses ought not to throw 
stones." Even supposing that Americans are somewhat 
more addicted to money-making, than is altogether consist- 
ent with a philosophic contempt for gold, yet the English 
would do well to '• cast out the beam out of" their own eye, 
before seeking for " the mote " in ours. We do exert our- 
selves sturdily in the acquisition of wealth, 'tis true, but 'tis 
a secondary consideration, it is sought for only as a means of 
power, and enjoyment. But with an Englishman, money is 
preeminent ; he loves it for its own substantial sake. And 
if I can show that those ostentatiously paraded qualities of 
which Englishmen are most proud, are subservient to their 
thirst for lucre, it seems to me that the most skeptical should 
be convinced that money is adorable in their eyes, for its 
own shining charms. 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 23' 

The English are a cold, selfish nation, with few emotions, 
and a limited number of sentiments. Patriotism, with 
them, never assumes that rarefied enthusiasm, experienced Iby 
other nations. But still an Englishman loves England ; he 
is proud of England, not that he discovers about her any ex- 
traordinary charms, but because she can claim the honor of 
having given him birth. Loyalty and religion are affected 
by an Englishman, like a high shirt-collar, and sleek hat, as 
the indispensable attributes of a gentleman. Indeed, re- 
garding gentility as impossible without them, he cultivates 
these desirable qualities with the coaxing assiduity, with 
which enthusiastic florists, in bleak climes, force tropical 
plants in hot houses. In accordance with the routine of 
proprieties, which he has prescribed for himself, the king 
and the church are the pet objects of his veneration. But 
when kings and churches cease to be regarded, what can be 
deemed sacred in England ? When both loyalty and reli- 
gion are traded off, for a paltry consideration, who can doubt 
the grovelling propensities of the English ? The Govern- 
ment of Great Britain demands sixpence of every visitor 
to Westminster Abbey. 

The most careless worldling must feel impressed on en- 
tering a venerable Cathedral. There is something awful, 
even to the bravest, about death. There is something sa- 
cred, even to the most brutal, in the tomb. Yet the Eng- 
lish, professing to be distinguished for their loyalty, and pre- 
tending piously to venerate every thing connected with the 
church, have degraded this hoary pile, among whose crum- 
bling arches a half-dozen centuries are perched, and in whose 
silent aisles repose the most illustrious heroes of English 
history, into a show-room, to pocket such pitiful earnings, as 
the owner of an organ and monkey might scorn to grind 
for. They take advantage of the desire, shared alike by 
strangers and Englishmen, to visit the tombs of Britain's 



24 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

KingSj to charge them sixpence for their admittance. How 
deep rooted must be the love of gain, when they will invade 
the sacred precincts of the grave, to levy this black mail on 
the curiosity of strangers ! How lost to all sense of shame 
to speculate on the loyalty of the nation ! How omnipotent 
must be the reign of gold in the hearts of the nobles, com- 
posing the government, when they would coin pennies from 
the dust of their dead ancestors ! What opinion must we 
entertain of the dignity and liberality of a government 
that annually devotes millions to the support of its pension 
list, and will yet drag forth the shades of her heroes to 
make a spectacle for the gaping multitude. What an ex- 
alted estimate they must place upon the services of these 
dead monarchs, when they exhibit them to spectators at six- 
pence a head, but demand a shilling for a sight of the live 
monkeys at the Zoological Gardens. This sordid policy 
which, in order to put a few pounds into the treasury, com- 
pels these ancient worthies, who have all played their parts 
in history, to play the catchpenny characters before a mob, 
makes even a stranger, who never loved the English, blush 
for their baseness. Even I would have them spare them- 
selves this last mark of ignominy. 

Their apology is worthy of the nation — it only costs six- 
pence ! Price, not principle, is ever uppermost in their 
minds. It is the amount a man pays, and not the outrage to 
his feelings, that they think it possible might distress him. 
But in this instance, the minuteness of the charge is happily 
apportioned to the motive which prompted it. What could 
be more contemptible than either ? 

These sceptred monarchs, who once swayed the wills of 
millions — formerly the proud possessors of manors and 
forests, are not now permitted to occupy in peace their poor 
body's length. The people of Great Britain have grown too 
eager to reap its profits, and the soil has recently become 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 25 

too valuable to the liviisgj to be consecrated as the resting- 
place of the dead. These buried kings, in ceasing to be 
feared, are no longer respected ; England has served them, 
it is now their turn to serve England. It is the duty of a 
good sovereign to be useful to his people. He must not be 
a burden to the state, and must therefore issue forth, to 
dance a melancholy jig for the entertainment of the populace, 
each one of whom has paid his sixpence to witness the exhi- 
bition. A happy commentary truly upon the ancient glory, 
and modern degeneracy of England ; — a heroic monarch 
reduced to the level of a street exhibitor of Punch and 
Judy ! Who can doubt that the English love money when 
their loyalty and religion are bartered for pence, and their 
kings and churches transformed into the base means of dis- 
reputable gain 1 

There is something so venerable about the Gothic arches 
of Westminster Abbey, — something so solemn in the silent 
array of its discolored tombs, that it continues to be im- 
posing even in the dirty hands of its showmen. Here 
reposes all that is greatest and best of England's proud 
past. Here the most eminent poets and sculptors of the 
world, have rendered themselves immortal, in paying the 
last tribute to expired genius. Undying renown not only 
hangs round the names recorded, but rests on the hands 
that recorded them. An atmosphere of holiest impulses 
breathes over these illustrious monuments, and I would have 
no one drink it in who was not inspired by the genius of the 
place. A man, who could stand in the presence of these 
honored dead, without experiencing the most elevated emo- 
tions, I would banish as an intruder from the sacred fane. 
I would have a visit here prompted by the feelings, with 
which devout palmers make pilgrimages to the Holy places 
of the East. I would fain protect this solemn niche of his- 
torical associations from the approach of idle curiosity. But 
2 



26 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the English seem anxious to destroy its consecrated cliarae- 
ter. They lower the exalted reputation of the place in 
offering it to the public as an ordinary spectacle ; they 
assail its sanctity, when they make it a cheap exhibition. 

The illiterate have always possessed a strong natural pro- 
pensity for shows, which becomes especially animated, when 
it can be indulged at a trifling expense. There is something 
strangely fascinating in the dignity of spending one's own 
money, and very comfortable in the idea of getting the 
worth of it. And it is only necessary to announce a cheap 
exhibition, of no matter what, to insure crowds of ignorant 
spectators flocking to see it. In the first place, the name of 
the thing is attraction, for it is arranged under the head of 
" Amusements ;" then they have the luxury of spending 
money, without the inconvenience attending a larger outlay, 
and besides people have a passion for seeing and doing what 
they have to pay for, whatever is " free " possessing no at- 
tractions. Who can doubt that this sixpenny charge proves 
a bait to swarms of such ignoramuses, who would, other- 
wise, never dream of entering the Abbey ? And what right 
have the English government to' suppose that they would feel 
greater veneration here, than at any other " show," when 
they had paid sixpence to get in ? They come to see, not to 
reflect. They tramp through the resounding aisles in search 
of something they do not find. Lost amidst a labyrinth of 
names they never heard of, and stumbling among works of 
art they do not understand, 'tis not surprising that the};" 
should indulge their grumbling dissatisfaction. The diminu- 
tiveness of the entrance fee becomes a source of complaint, 
and these Englishmen, who estimate every thing by what 
they pay for it, wonder at their own folly in not foreseeing 
the character of the exhibition, from the cheapness of the 
price of admittance. They have paid their sixpence, how- 
ever, and feel at liberty to criticise the perfor'nanoe. and it 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 27 

is from the jeering comments, and senseless gibes of a disap- 
pointed rabble like this, that I would faiu protect the hal- 
lowed recesses of Westminster. 

Those who attempt to defend this unworthy practice, 
declare that the inconsiderable charge, which nobody can 
feel, is made merely to defray the expenses of the necessary 
guardians of the church against the mutilations of visitors. 
But would it not be more becoming the position of a gov- 
ernment, which generously gives the Queen $300,000 as jtn?^ 
money ^ and can afford to reward her majesty's ex-master of 
the dance with a pension of five hundred dollars a year — to 
devote a few hundred to the preservation of a relic, so 
venerated as Westminster Abbey % Or if the public finances 
would not permit so inconsiderable an outlay, would it not 
be more dignified to curtail the perquisites of the dashing 
noble who now receives as master of the queen's stag hounds; 
$10,000 a year for occasionally amusing himself by going 
hunting with a good pack of dogs, rather than subject the 
poor old abbey to its present ignominy ? Or, if this will 
not do. and the queen's household must remain intact in 
spite of the abbey, why not leave it to protect itself? It 
would be safer in its solitary majesty guarded only by the 
glorious recollections of the past than it could be when 
watched by this hired train of insolent menials. Its very 
helplessness would become unto it a wall of strength ; its 
silent appeal for mercy would protect it from the rudest 
hands ; and its monuments, that time and history have 
united to render illustrious, would be safe, when a regiment 
of soldiers might fail to preserve them. Englishmen, do 
this ; — do what you will, but spare — oh spare the guiltless 
shades of your buried ancestors the shame of such an 
exposure ! 

But if, in defiance of the sanctity of the place, and the 
veneration you profess to feel for your forefathers, you 



28 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

will continue to make a show-house of your ancient cathe- 
dral, why in the name of all that is decent, do you not make 
the price of admission worthy of the celebrity of the 
object? or at least charge enough, to insure the proper con- 
duct of the showmen ? 

The government having closed the lofty public entrance, 
either on the economical principle that prompts a man to 
lock up his parlor, except on Sunday, or because they are 
ashamed of the business they are engaged in, the visitor to 
Westminster is compelled to sneak round the back way. 
through an alley, which is not especially calculated to 
heighten his preconceived impressions of the Abbey. But 
he enters, and forgets all else. Standing beneath the 
vaulted arches of Westminster, he so loses all sense in the 
delightful mazes of reverie, as seriously to interrupt the 
business of the day, did not an ofl&cial in sable softly de- 
mand his cane, and thereby wake him up to a recollection 
of what he came to do. By the by, even if you happen to 
be a cripple, or a dandy, instantly discard your cane upon 
arriving at the other side of the Atlantic. I care not how 
lame you may happen to be ; limp, crawl, do what you can, 
but be not afflicted by this supernumerary nuisance. For 
if you, as of course you will, visit all the galleries and 
lions of England, your cane will subject you to a greater 
expenditure of time, patience, and money, than most peo- 
ple are willing to submit to. 

But the cane is deposited, and a new rush of emotions 
occurs. The accumulated expectations pent up since his boy- 
hood, become oppressive by delay, and the visitor grows 
warm and fidgety in his anxiety to be admitted to the holier 
places of the church. This intensely vivified excitement 
never becomes dangerous, however, as by a charitably consi- 
derate arrangement of the English government, it is always 
allowed ample time to cool. The numerous gentlemen in 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 29 

black, whom the government compels the old church to pay, for 
so shabbily doing its honors, being of sedentary habits, and 
a literary turn of mind, are unwilling to be interrupted to 
convey a single visitor through the interior chapels. It 
requires a party of seven curious individuals, each one pro- 
vided with a talisman in the shape of a sixpence, to inter- 
rupt the comfortable repose of a pompous official. And as 
most people have ceased to consider a show, composed of 
mouldy monuments and tattered flags, a very lively one, 
even when it happens to be a great bargain — a stranger 
will usually incur the risk of remaining some time in the 
antechamber. During the painful period of his probation, 
he is subjected to the impositions of another class of huck- 
sters. Watching with the liveliest interest the various stages 
of his impatience, they rapidly advance upon him, from 
every nook and corner, the instant they perceive him 
arrived at the extreme point of desperation. With un- 
blushing assurance, they poke at the bewildered gentleman 
descriptions of the Abbey, plans of the building, pictures 
of the monuments, and armsfuU of other plausible stuff, 
which they feel very confident he has not the courage, in 
his exhausted condition, to refuse. Of course he buys 
every thing, without much examining the contents, for in 
his melancholy frame of mind the advertisements of the 
" Times," a week old, would prove a refreshing literary 
treat. At length, however, the mystical number of seven is 
made up. The stately keeper slowly rises — unlocks the 
door — passes us in one by one, that being the most con- 
venient mode of collecting the sixpences — enters himself, 
and again turns the key. An extraordinary metamorphosis 
instantly occurs. Our guide assumes an alacrity quite 
startling, when contrasted with his former torpidity. The 
man appears to be worked by steam. In his mumbled 
routine of names, dates, and nonsense, the only distinguish- 



30 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

able feature is its haste. He rushes us through chapels, 
over monuments, and along aisles, without ever pausing 
for breath, till he has put us out at a gate on the other 
side, with the satisfied sigh of a man who has just accom- 
plished a very irksome task. This is a visit to "West- 
minster ! This it is to hold communion with the illustrious 
dead ! This is the intellectual enjoyment which the Eng- 
lish government have considered too delicious to be offered 
to the public gratis. 

In the inextricable confusion of ages, persons, and 
events, in which his guide has succeeded in involving him, 
the visitor feels stunned in attempting to recollect what he 
has seen : few men would be rash enough to attempt re- 
membering what they had heard. A vague vision of 
antique tombs, Gothic chapels, and curious sanctuaries is all 
he has to show for his visit to the Abbey. What time has 
been allowed to the historian, to connect the chain of events, 
recorded by these monuments ? Has the antiquary had an 
opportunity of examining the inscriptions ? Has the phi- 
losopher been permitted to reflect upon the extraordinary 
changes which these tombs are calculated to call up in his 
mind ? Or what opportunity has the ordinary visitor en- 
joyed, of either thought or reflection, whilst composing one 
of the express train, which our locomotive guide has suc- 
ceded in "putting through," in such extraordinarily fast 
time ? The chief enjoyment in the Abbey arises from 
association ; time must be granted for its indulgence. What 
educated stranger, in paying his sixpence, would not be 
delighted to give twenty times the sum, to be allowed to 
enjoy his visit in his own way, without the hateful domi- 
nation of the fast guide? But the English government, 
although too avaricious to surrender so important a branch 
of the public revenue, are too timid to demand a higher 
price ; their only apology for making the Abbey a paying 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 31 

exhibition, being, that the charge is an extremely '■'•moder- 
ate " one. Too mean to resist the temptation to make a 
petty charge, they are destitute of the moral courage to profit 
by a larger one. 

I would love to muse among these gray old tombs. 
I should delight to study the quaint epitaphs in which the 
partial friends of ancient times have recorded the imaginary 
virtues of the dead. I would take strange pleasure in 
wandering through these lofty corridors and echoing aisles 
with the spirit inhabitants of the place. I could find ex- 
quisite enjoyment in passing with them through the history 
of the past, some of whose stirring events each one of them 
has helped to contribute. The food for memory, and the 
pleasures of association, in a spot like this, seem endless. 
But for such enjoyment a man must be allowed to linger 
long and often in these hidden recesses. He must not be 
interrupted, or hurried by impertinent guides ; he must be 
permitted to fly even from himself, and live only in the 
past. But such permission would be considered most 
reprehensible extravagance, in the management of the 
public funds ; it would be giving too much " show " for 
sixpence. 

I have too long lost sight of our visitor. Hurried, and 
heated, he is ejected from that other gate by the grim jani- 
tor, who slams the door in his face when he attempts some- 
what to enlighten himself by a civil question, and uncere- 
moniously leaves him to get out as he best can. Thoroughly 
disgusted with the whole proceeding, he experiences even 
greater anxiety to make his exit than he had previously 
done his entree. Proceeding forthwith to the nearest out- 
let, he demands with sarcastic politeness his cane, which the 
bland gentleman in black hands him, with a brief, but em- 
phatic, " Tujjpence, Sir, please." In a fume, he searches all 
his pockets, which had been previously exhausted of their 



32 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

small change, in the purchase of bad descrijj. 
pictures of the Abbey, without being able t .^y 

sixpence, or even shilling. He is at lengt' o hand 

a half-sovereign to the bland man, who, sl his regret 

that he has nothing but small change, Indus'- usly proceeds 
to freight the pockets of the exasperates or with pen- 

nies, which would all have been unceremoaiously thrown 
into his face, had not the unfortunate sight-seer retained 
coolness enough to be aware that he would them all 

quietly up again, and be extremely obliged -lim for his 
profusion. Becoming hopelessly conscious of the utter help- 
lessness of his position, he says not a word, but with a slight 
groan, starts off, packing copper as naturally as the mules 
in the mines of Peru. Such is the pitch of intellectual en- 
joyment, to which the enlightened policy of Grreat Britain 
has succeeded in elevating a visit to Westminster Abbey. 

The sanctity of St. Paul's is invaded by the same mer- 
cenary policy, which has degraded Westminster. A stran- 
ger, whether actuated by curiosity or piety, cannot cross its 
sacred threshold, without first depositing a sixpence, which 
seems the general passport to all the holy places of England. 
Its being demanded at the door of every public building, 
worth visiting, has conferred on the paltry price a sort of 
nationality. From the frequency of its payment, we natu- 
rally associate it with the people and the government. 
Really this perseverance in making this trivial charge, in 
all public places, evinces a determination on the part of the 
government to make the minutest of silver coins the stand- 
ard of British honor. But whether they will succeed ' 
elevating the sixpence to the dignity of the nation, or deba 
ing the dignity of the nation to the value of the sixpence. 
a question future historians must determine. 

Montesquieu says that honor is the safeguard of monai 
chies, as patriotism is that of republics. Does it not loo!^ 



i 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 33 

' '" -■ future glory of England, that she herself 
I or so lightly? 

i) .. .n England an object of which all classes may 

be just ^ it is St. Paul's Church. It combines all that 

is stately a, 3autiful in architecture — every thing that is 
grand and sing in religion. Piety and patriotism have 

thrown aboi c their powerful influences, though it had no 
need of either to make it impressive. The magnificent result 
of one nati-^"' wealth, and one man's genius, it confers honor 
on "VVren. glory on England. Though the largest Pro- 

testant churc in the world, and among the brightest tri- 
umphs that aichitecture has achieved, — though it required 
forty-seven years for its completion, it is remarkable that 
the unassisted genius of Sir Christopher Wren planned and 
executed this stupendous work. He laid the corner-stone, 
and he superintended the erection of the crowning cross. 

There is a solemn repose about the looming dome of St. 
Paul's, an elegance about its graceful towers, and chaste 
beauty about the supporting columns, that must awe into 
silent admiration the most careless passer-by. What an ef- 
fect, then, must it produce upon the stranger, who views it 
for the first time. Excited, delighted, and amazed by the 
splendor of its exterior, the visitor hastens to lose himself 
amidst the glories within — but is rudely stopped at the door 
to pay his admission-fee. What a fell blow to his noble as- 
pirations ! What violence to all sense of propriety, and 
every feeling of religion ! A church, however lowly, should 
be kept holy as the memory of a mother's name ; it should 
be guarded from pollution like the sanctity of her tomb. 
To convert the humblest fane to worldly purposes is sacrilege. 
But what shall we call the act that degrades a temple like 
St. Paul's to the common custom of a tavern, where every- 
body may enter by paying — nobody without. To disturb 
the holy silence of the hcuso of God by the angry chaffering 



34 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of a doorkeeper about the price of admission, is a deed with- 
out a name — a sin without a parallel. 

But, once within the doors — once under the influence of 
the sublime beauty of all above and around him, it is no 
difficult matter for the visitor again to become wrapped in 
admiration, and lost in thought. Beneath the vast expanse 
of that mighty dome, his thoughts soar heavenwards, his soul 
expands into that almost boundless space, — he hears no- 
thing — he sees nothing — he knows nothing but the marble 
wonders about him. Little does he dream, all this while, that 
he has himself been the object of solicitous and unceasing 
attention. There is a suspicious-looking individual, in shab- 
by black, intensely eyeing him, whom instinct would have 
told him to avoid, had he been aware of his presence. At 
length, seeming to despair of any other mode of attracting 
our wrapped visitor's attention, this gloomy- looking function- 
ary, with the gliding movements and haggard visage of a 
ghost, delicately touches his elbow, and wishes to know, in 
the softest possible tones, '• Whether the gentleman wouldn't 
like to visit the whispering gallery ?" Stupefied, as if sud- 
denly awakened from a dream, he stares for a moment in si- 
lence at the intruder, finds his voice briefly to answer " No !" 
and takes refuge behind one of the many elegant groups of 
pillars that adorn the church. His privacy is soon invaded 
by another hungry official, who insinuatingly suggests to 
him the propriety of " taking a look at the library." Once 
more he flies — this time to a remote niche, where his con- 
templation of the heroes' statue, enshrined within, is again 
interrupted by a third officious individual, who condescend- 
ingly informs him that " the old tower clock is a great won- 
der of its kind.'' Justly concluding the plan of persecution 
to be systematic, and finding it impossible to be alone, or to 
think, our visitor resolves to be resigned, and yields him- 
self unmurmuring to the guides. With a vast parade of 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 35 

ceremony, he is conducted to the whispering gallery, where, 
of course, he drops a sixpence ; he then sees the library for 
the same amount, and he is escorted to the grand tower clock, 
where another sixpence is invested. Thus is he coaxed from 
object to object, and story to story of the building, till he 
finds himself at the top of the dome, out of breath and small 
change, with nothing to compensate him for this double ex- 
haustion, except dense clouds of smoke, with the black tops 
of 'tall chimneys occasionally peering through them. He 
consoles himself with the unsatisfactory reflection that his 
lofty situation is, at least, an uncommonly airy one. Suffer- 
ing has made him philosophical ; and, with panting sides 
and aching knees, he counts on his fingers the number of 
bores through which he has been dragged against his will ; 
and for what ? to enable the English government, and its 
mercenary creatures, legally to empty his pockets of all the 
sixpences they happened to contain. Not satisfied with in- 
terrupting him, whilst attempting to enjoy his visit to the 
church in his own way, these active allies of petty extortion 
must subject him to the excruciating infliction of " tower 
bells," " whispering galleries," and '• libraries," which a man 
would wonder how they could ever consider worthy of being 
shown till he remembered how essential they were to the 
extraction of the prescribed quantity of small coin from un- 
suspecting strangers. In this instance, the sixpence must 
have been a joint-stock operation, — Grovernment must have 
quickened the zeal of its minions, by allowing them a small 
additional commission upon the amount collected. The per- 
severance with which they adhered to every visitor to St. 
Paul's, till they had run him through their entire routine, 
was too unwearying, not to have been quickened by some 
pecuniary inducement of the sort. But how could a reason- 
able man complain after having been so highly edified by 
the extremely intcrestinfr objects he had just visited^ and 



36 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

when, too, lie must have felt so inexpressibly indebted to the 
polite attentions of his various guides in pointing them out? 
The view from the summit of the dome of St. Paul's was 
somewhat on the mysteriously indistinct order, 'tis true, but 
he could not hold his accommodating guides responsible for 
the London fog, more especially as they had afforded him 
such intense gratification in the bell tower and whispering 
gallery. 

Superlatively disgusted, our visitor hurries the next 
day for consolation to the Tower. The same delays, the 
same annoyances, and the same petty extortions await him, 
which had assailed him at the Abbey and St. Paul's. He 
sadly yielded to the conviction that the English government 
had, with the wand of power, thrown up a small circumvalla- 
tion of sixpences around him, from which it was as vain to 
attempt an escape, as from the magical circle of an en- 
chanter. Destitute of the energy to rail at such interrupted 
persecution, he surrendered himself into the hands of his 
tormentors, without a hope, or even a wish to escape. 

There is perhaps no object on the other side of the At- 
lantic, about which clusters deeper, or more varied interest 
for the stranger, than the Tower of London. Its fortunes 
have been so eventful, and of such startling contrast, that its 
simple annals possess the thrilling interest of romance. The 
curiosity with regard to it, is not confined to a single class 
of persons. It possesses a charm for all ages and conditions. 
The brilliant and bloody pageants which have been enacted 
within its walls and its fatal green, are strangely fascinating 
to the raw-head and bloody-bones period of youthful imagi- 
nation, whilst its long and intimate connection with remark- 
able events during the most glorious epochs of English 
history, give it an importance in the eyes of maturcr years. 
Whether we study it whilst flashing with splendor as the 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 37 

residence of a great monarch, or penetrate its gloom when 
given up to the uses of a prison, the same intense interest per- 
vades the story of its fortunes. Whilst its lofty halls have 
been ringing with merriment of the masques and mummeries 
of a court ball, the sigh of some lone martyr to liberty was 
smothered in the damps of its dungeons. In its mysterious 
cabinets ambition was born, and conquest planned; in its 
sombre chambers of strong bolts and grated windows, pined 
the royal prisoners that victory gave. What strangely 
mingled tales its old walls might tell of splendor and mis- 
ery, glory and shame, mirth and sorrow. Its lofty turrets 
and towers may be justly considered the archives of Bri- 
tain. On its mildewed walls and creaking portcullis is 
written the social history of the English people. Yet this 
hoary pyramid of pride, which the Conqueror reared, and 
his successors rendered memorable by their presence, and 
their deeds, has been converted to purposes that an old barn 
might answer equally as well. The munificent policy by 
which the English government have been latterly distin- 
guished, has changed this ancient stronghold, so replete with 
records of which England might boast, into a common ware- 
house for the lumber and rubbish of the ordnance depart- 
ment. To subject the gloomy old pile to such vile uses, is 
like baiting a chained lion with lapdogs — the sport is as 
unworthy those engaged in it as the unfortunate victim. 

Light is now excluded from those elegant apartments, 
which once blazed with all the magnificence of a court, for 
powder has usurped the place of kings, and the gay cour- 
tiers have been banished by lead. Those luxurious cham- 
bers, where many an antique dandy has capered " to the 
lascivious pleasings of a lute," are now stowed with the bales 
and barrels of government. The spider weaves his web 
where floated the gorgeous tapestry of other days. And the 
silence of those lofty corridors, which once echoed the busy 



38 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

hum of a royal residence, is now interrupted only by the 
gambols of rats that have taken advantage of the solitude. 

In a country where they profess to respect every thing 
old, and where any thing would be idolized that dates back 
to William the Conqueror ; among a nation who estimate 
the merits of men and wine only by the date of their family 
and the time of its vintage, its antiquity alone should 
have protected the Tower. But money is stronger than 
time among them. Nothing can be so ennobled by the 
latter that the former cannot purchase its honor. No 
national monument is respected when money is either to be 
made or saved by its desecration. To avoid the invest- 
ment of a few thousand pounds in proper arsenals and store- 
houses, the stately palace of England's best kings has been 
subjected to its present degradation. Economy is as hon- 
orable in the administration of governments, as it is desira- 
ble in the management of domestic affairs. But are such 
petty savings becoming the wealth and dignity of a great 
nation 2 Does not such extreme frugality sink into parsi- 
mony 1 Is it not more sordid than prudent ? disgraceful 
rather than honorable ? 

The strength of these massive walls and frowning towers 
— the hoary survivors of eight centuries — are only admira- 
ble in their eyes as a safe means of protection to the public 
stores. The airy turrets, and picturesque beauty of the 
White Tower — rich in the lore that Englishmen should 
love to cherish — only appear interesting in their eyes when 
they calculate the probable amount they may make by their 
exhibition. Having found that the White Tower could be 
made more profitable as a showroom than as a warehouse, 
they have gotten up an exhibition, very similar, in the man- 
ner of conducting it, to that of the Abbey. They charge 
sixpence — only admit visitors in parties — and leave them at 
the mercy of rude guides, just as they do at the Westmin- 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 39 

ster. The only diflference is that the parties must consist 
of fourteen persons, instead of seven, and that the guides 
dress in red, instead of black. 

A- stranger, on entering the lowering gateway, is stopped 
at the ticket-office. " Sixpence, sir," remarks the doorkeeper, 
as he hands him his ticket. The gentleman pays his six- 
pence, and is moving off, when he is stopped by " Perhaps 
you would like to see the Crown Jewels and Regalia ? " 
" Yes, of course ; I wish to see every thing that is shown." 
" Oh, very well ; sixpence more, please," as he hands out 
another ticket. The visitor makes a new application to his 
pocket, and again moves on, when the doorkeeper once more 
shouts after him, " We have excellent descriptions of the 
Tower, will you take one ? " The visitor stalks solemnly 
back, and is greeted with, " Only sixpence, sir," as he re- 
ceives his book, and pays the required amount. "First door 
on the right," observes the ticket-seller, as he turns to a 
new applicant. This sharp individual, presiding over the 
financial department of the Tower, appears to practice on 
the homoeopathic principle of making his charges in infinitesi- 
mally broken doses, to adapt them, no doubt, to the consti- 
tutional peculiarities of his nation, which would revolt at 
the enormous charge of a whole shilling, unless artfully di- 
vided into sixpences. After entering '• the first door on 
the right," our visitor has nothing more to amuse him, until 
the fourteen are assembled, except to criticise the somewhat 
theatrical costume of the guides, who are here dignified by 
the title of " Warders," and to ruminate upon the very 
honorable uses the English people make of the advantages 
their ancestors have conferred upon them : Westminster 
and the Tower for instance. How can he entertain very 
exalted notions of England's honor, when he here sees it 
bartered for so trifling a consideration ? How can he respect 
Englishmen, when they have ceased to respect themselves '? 



40 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

In paying sixpence to see the Tower, is a man not apt, in 
spite of himself, to estimate the national character at the 
same cheap rate ? 

But to the dress of the warders. It consists of a sur- 
coat of red merino, elaborately dashed with black velvet, 
and set off by a low-crowned black hat, of outlandish ap- 
pearance, which is said to complete the identical uniform of 
yeomen of the guard, under Henry VIII. Their honorable 
employers certainly displayed rare discrimination in rigging 
out the warders in the livery of the tyrant, when they placed 
them on their present dirty duty. The arbitrary power, 
which compels the nation and her guests to pay a paltry 
sum for visiting public property, like the Tower, possesses 
all the meanness, though destitute of the boldness, which 
characterized Henry's outrages against the people. The 
surcoats of the gentlemen warders are rather scant, but 
certain I am that the same quantity of merino never covered 
an equal amount of ignorance and insolence as is stowed 
away beneath each blushing uniform. 

English officials however, are invariably impertinent, from 
the policeman at the corner to the minister in Downing- 
street. They all appear so impressed by the importance of 
their positions, that they look down with a sort of lofty 
scorn upon the rest of creation, and appearing really deluded 
into the belief that they confer a favor on the people by 
accepting their offices, they pocket their money, and treat 
them as inferiors, with the coolest possible condescension 
imaginable. They seem strangely to mistake their functions, 
when, in becoming the servants of the public, they consider 
it incumbent on them to play its tyrants. A stranger might 
suppose them paid to insult rather than oblige those whom 
necessity brings into contact with them. Englishmen them- 
selves avoid them, and urgent indeed must be the occasion 
which could induce them to brave the unbearable presump- 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 41 

tion of these insolent servitors. Clothed in a little brief 
authority, it is really amazing what an amount of arrogance 
and rudeness a lowborn Englishman manages suddenly to 
get up. In entering upon the duties of an office, however 
contemptible, they appear to imagine that they have become 
integral portions of a haughty government, and must be feared 
and fawned upon accordingly. In donning the badge of 
office, they always assume the mysterious official air, which, 
with bent brows and abstracted gaze, is intended to intimate 
to the uninitiated how deeply they are immersed in the af- 
fairs of the nation. Even when his sole duty is to give such 
information to the public as may be required, the ^meanest 
official will reply to a civil question with monosyllabic tart- 
ness, as if his private meditations had been unwarrantably 
intruded upon. Indeed, none of them ever condescend to 
attend to the business of their offices, without a supercilious 
air of doing a favor instead of duty, which they are well 
paid to perform. From the clerk at the railway depot to 
the secretary of the office where a man is compelled to go 
about passports, the same laconic rudeness is observable. I 
conceive it to be the duty of a government, which so fre- 
quently demands attendance at its public offices, so to regu- 
late them as to protect not only its own subjects, but 
strangers, from the insults of these impertinent hirelings. 

The party of fourteen have been assembled. We are 
drawn up in a line, and undergo a brief inspection as to tick- 
ets, &c., when our fat leader, in red, places himself at the 
head of the column, and we immediately take up the line of 
march, double-quick time, for the White Tower. We make 
no halts on the way to admire the gloomy portal — the mas- 
sive walls, fourteen feet thick, and the deep fosse, which is 
now dry ; we pause not to wonder at the ponderous oak 
doors, and rusty portcullis of the Traitor's Gate, but are 
hurried on more like a file of prisoners for the dungeons of 



42 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the Tower, than a party of interesting tourists, each one of 
whom had paid his sixpence, and was consequently curious 
to examine all that presented itself. We enter the White 
Tower when the real animation of the proceedings seems but 
just commenced. Our guide becomes marvellously lively in 
his movements, and, considering the tower-like rotundity of 
his solid person, he performed feats almost miraculous. How 
he managed to keep in him the requisite quantity of wind 
for his brisk trot, and unceasing flow of the flat jokes and 
stale information with which he regaled us, really seemed to 
me one of the most curious things I witnessed in the Tower. 
Ours was a breath-taking speed. In fact, if each one of us, 
on entering, had been mounted on one of the plethoric-look- 
ing horses composing the line of equestrian figures in the 
armory, we could not have galloped through faster, or seen 
less, than under the direction of our corpulent guide. In 
our helter-skelter, pell-mell, devil-take-the-hindmost sort of 
race, there was a prolonged flash of armor, swords, and 
lances — a hideous vision of instruments of torture, and droll 
implements for rendering war more terrible, by mangling its 
victims, — and indistinct phantoms of blocks and axes, — all 
dancing about Sir Walter Raleigh's prison apartment in in- 
explicable confusion, when we were suddenly put out, as hav- 
ing seen a sixpence worth of the Tower. 

Why is it, I demand again, if government will persist in 
charging visitors to public places of celebrity, that they will 
not charge enough to render the style of getting up the exhi- 
bition more in accordance with the interest of the objects, and 
in a way altogether to dispense with these nuisances of guides 
who at present infest them ? Or if it is essential to their own 
comfort to have some ofiicial about the premises, why not 
make the price of admission sufficiently great to command 
the services of men of intelligence, who might materially 
assist and enliven the visitor's examination of the objects of 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 43 

curiosity ? Station these persons in the armory of the White 
Tower, for instance, and allow the intelligent visitor some 
opportunity of pausing amidst so many ancient and curious 
things which he fin3s worthy of study. What time has he 
during the peripatetic discourse of nonsense with which he 
is now inflicted, to examine with attention a single object, 
or indulge, however cursorily, his natural curiosity? Our 
warder seemed equally put out in his rigmarole by pauses 
and questions ; so he paid no sort of attention to either. 
He never stopped or even caught his breath till he had gotten 
through with us and his story together. How remarkably 
instructive, as well as interesting, he succeeded in making 
himself, one might judge from the following example : 
'•' Ladies and gentlemen, this is a suit of Aarmor worn by 
'Enry the ^eighth." Both pieces of information happened 
to be equally superfluous, as the name of Henry VIII. was 
written above the figure in fair Roman characters, and the 
streaks of gold were very plainly visible at difi"erent points 
of the harness. Yet he delivered himself with all the pomp- 
ous volubility with which he incidentally made the startling 
announcement to the company, " That the 'orse of King 
'Enry was /^actually much given to /ieating Aoats to Aex- 
cess." 

But so long as the English government is directed by the 
present catchpenny policy, it will be too greedy to abolish 
charges altogether at Westminster, St. Paul's and the Tow- 
er, and too timid to make any alterations in the manner of 
exhibiting them. The guides, at all the places, are indispen- 
sable allies in the present system. By abolishing these 
irresistible propellers, pauses would inevitably occur, which, 
by allowing a visitor some opportunity of gratifying his cu- 
riosity, might rob the exchequer of an additional sixpence, 
by lessening the probability of his returning for a second 
visit. No such danger must be incurred, and the guides are 



44 ENGLISH ITSMS. 

conseqeuntly kept in active requisition. It is now an impor- 
tant part of their duty, like the donkey-boys of Egypt, to 
keep the party at top speed, to prevent the possibility of a 
visitor's seeing any thing with sufficient distinctness to make 
him feel satisfied with a single visit. His introductory rush 
ig merely intended to increase his desire for futura inspec- 
tions. As much as I disliked to become a victim of so mis- 
erable a conspiracy, I was compelled to yield, and as fast as 
I was ejected, I went back, paid another sixpence, and wait- 
ed the assembling of a new fourteen, till I was able to form 
some conception of the White Tower. It was my only 
chance, and by examining a little each time, I at last be- 
came somewhat familiar with the intensely interesting ob- 
jects in the horse armory, and the apartment occupied by 
Sir Walter Raleigh, during his long imprisonment. But 
what an insufferable bore a man is forced to submit to, be- 
cause the English government have not the liberality to 
throw open these celebrated places to the public free of 
charge, and yet are wanting in the moral courage to charge 
as much for one long visit, as a half-dozen short ones cost. 

Englishmen universally object to the haste with which 
an American takes his meals ; a dinner, according to their 
authority, is something to be lingered over with toying fond- 
ness ; but they dispatch the refined mental enjoyment of 
Westminster, St. Paul's, and the Tower, with a celerity as- 
tounding even to us go-ahead Americans. Their extreme 
deliberation at the dinner-table, and the excessive rapidity 
with which they hurry through the intellectual feasts spread 
at these celebrated places, decisively indicate how vastly more 
important they consider the gratification of the belly than the 
mind. It is, however, a happy illustration of the character of 
the people. The leopard cannot change his spots, nor the Ethi- 
opian his skin. Their innocent ignorance, that a man could 
derive any sort of pleasure from mere thought and associa- 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 45 

tion, would be perhaps a much better apology for their un- 
seemly manner of exhibiting sacred spots, than the cheapness 
of the price of admission. They find it difficult to realize 
that a man can ever require less substantial food than roast- 
beef, or that he could long for more ethereal inspiration than 
a bottle of porter. They appear to think that the mind 
need possess no higher cultivation, than to appreciate an ar- 
tistically cooked dish ; and that it requires no more inten- 
sive knowledge than to find the way to market. Between 
the dinner-table and the market-house, an Englishman's high- 
est aspirations continually wander ; he has no hope, and 
knows no fear beyond them. All other scenes and plans are 
mere accessories to these, which may be safely pronounced 
i\\efaci of the ellipse in which rolls his existence. 

Better would it be for the honor of the English Nation, 
if they had been born in the degradation, as they are endued 
with the propensities, of the modern Egyptians. Brighter 
far would be their reputation if they had been reared to cry 
" backsheesh " to each passing stranger, rather than degrade 
those monuments of glory, received from their ancestors, into 
lasting memorials of their own shame. A people that have 
grown up in rags and ignorance, are pardonable for the grov- 
elling instincts of wretchedness. But what palliation can 
be offered of the conduct of Great Britain ? To a nation, 
whose ostentatious piety sends missionaries into the remotest 
quarters of the globe, even charity refuses an apology, for 
the habitual desecration of her churches. 

The very advantages which wealth and power have con- 
ferred upon her, are witnesses, trumpet-tongued, against her 
baseness. Is such an example to the rest of the world wor- 
thy the enlightened head of civilization in the middle of the 
nineteenth century? Does the golden or the copper age 
reign in England, where pelf is dearer than honor, and pence 
are eagerly received in exchange for reputation? The me- 



46 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

morials of munificence, left them by their fathers, have, in 
their hands, become the testimony which convicts them of 
meanness. 

Want often reduces pride to lowliness, and necessity 
will sometimes drive the noblest natures to the unworthiest 
practices. It would be lucky for England if she had 
been unfortunate ; poverty might have proved her salvation. 
But with wealth, far surpassing that of every other country in 
the universe, and with all the education and refinement which 
that wealth could bestow, she disgraces the high position 
which circumstances have conferred upon her, in mere wan- 
tonness of corruption. Their besotted nature would excuse 
the Hottentots, even in the eyes of the most censorious, for 
bartering away the priceless mementoes of the past glories 
of their country. We do but pity the ignorance of the boor, 
who sold for a few florins the almost invaluable diamond 
lost by Charles the Bold at the battle of Granson ; but what 
feeling of sympathy can we reserve for a civilized nation, 
anxious to sell that " immediate jewel of their souls," their 
own good name ? What anathemas do we not feel tempted 
to heap on the heads of those daily engaged in the traffic of 
that "purest treasure mortal times afibrd" — "spotless repu- 
tation." 

No collection of curiosities in the world better deserves 
its name, than the Zoological Gardens of London. In the 
number and variety of animals, they greatly surpass the far- 
famed Jardin des Plantes of Paris. No more extensive or 
curious field, could be presented to the study of the natur- 
alist. Every zone has been made to contribute some of the 
rarest denizens of its savage forests. Every species of 
animal, from the white bear of the polar regions, to the 
giraffe of the tropics, is so arranged in the same extensive 
in closures, as to develope more of their native peculiaritiei 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 47 

than in any other menagerie in the world. Here we find the 
seal diving for his fishy meal, the hippopotamus lazily lolling 
in his quagmire, and the elephant as quietly suckling her 
young, as if none of them had ever ceased to roam in their 
own particular element. By the exquisitely artistic arrange- 
ments, which wealth and science have united to make, the 
tiger is cheated of his jungle, and the lioness rears her cubs 
as regularly as if raging in her own native deserts. It 
would be impossible, by the most elaborate description, to 
afford a correct idea of the taste and elegance displayed, as 
well in the arrangement of the beasts, as in the adornment 
of the gardens themselves. We find cranes slowly wading 
their ponds, or eagerly watching for the game that lurks at 
its bottom. Here all the rarer and more exquisite varieties 
of water-fowl are seen, with their downy broods, gayly swim- 
ming in lakes, so naturally wild, and wildly beautiful, as to 
make them forget the solitary lagoons 'tis their nature to 
frequent. It would require a man of scientific attainments 
in natural history, properly to name even the classes of tlie 
various beasts, birds, and reptiles, composing this stupendous 
collection. All the numerous exhibitions I had previously 
seen, served to give me but a poor idea of the extent and 
interest of this. The gardens themselves, which are very 
extensive, are rendered charming by the exquisite arrange- 
ment of mingled grass-plots, trees, and flowers, which en- 
hance the beauty of the place, as much as the interest of 
the exhibition. Every thing is beautiful, every thing grand 
and munificent, except the ruling spirit of the place. The 
Zoological Gardens, like Westminster, St. Paul's, and the 
Tower, are under the control of the English Government, 
and are subjected to the same degradation. " The trail of 
the serpent is over them all." The magnificence displayed 
in the arrangement of the gardens, acts like a microscope 
upon the meanness of reducing the nation to the condition 



48 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of a common showman : it serves to expose its deformity in 
all its hideousness. If the Zoological Gardens really be a 
national exhibition, the nation certainly possesses the right 
to their gratuitous enjoyment. But no ! the government 
would then be deprived of their most acceptable occupation. 
They basely use, without permission, the authority of the 
people's name, to make them sharers in a disgrace for which 
they alone are responsible. A stranger in paying his shilling 
for admission into an exhibition, which has been dubbed " na- 
tiofial^'' in contradistinction from another in the Surrey Gar- 
dens, very naturally suspects that the people are partners in this 
contemptible transaction. But he learns with astonishment 
that they are fellow-sufferers from this degrading imposition. 
Many countries have failed properly to remunerate their 
leaders for the blessings they have conferred upon them; but 
the English people are compelled to pay for the ignominy, 
with which their despotic rulers have loaded them. 

How marked is the contrast existing between the course 
of England, and the jealous care with which France pre- 
serves her national integrity. In Paris every institution of 
learning and science, all galleries of fine arts, and places of 
amusement, except the theatres, are thrown generously open 
to the public. In making them national^ France has made 
them free. She justly considers it a stain upon her honor, 
to degrade her great public institutions into mean sources 
of gain. She rightly believes it beneath the dignity of a 
powerful government, to demand pecuniary rewards for ser- 
vices rendered to its subjects. She seems happily aware of 
the distinction between the munificence of a nation, and the 
necessities of an individual. She appears to feel that though 
a citizen may get up an exhibition, without loss of honor, a 
nation cannot play the showman, without disgrace. There is 
no branch of science — no description of literature, which' a 
man is desirous of pursuing, that he cannot accomplish, free 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 49 

of charge, in the celebrated institutions of Paris. The 
enlightened spirit, which erected the colleges, has nobly 
thrown open their doors to all classes of citizens. The pub- 
lic galleries, enriched by master-pieces of all the celebrated 
painters and sculptors of the world, are gratuitously opened 
to the humblest individual, whose taste may incline to the 
enjoyment of works of art. There is no learned investiga- 
tion, which a man may have occasion to make, in which he 
will not be facilitated, without cost, by the intelligent 
officials, whom the government has stationed in the public 
libraries. And every grotesque Frenchman is allowed to 
enjoy, as long as he pleases, the antics of the monkeys in 
the " Sardine des Flaiites'^ without previously paying a franc 
for admission at the gate. 

Would not the English do well to take a few hints from 
their neighbors, in their management of the Zoological G-ar- 
dens ? If the government of the wealthiest country in the 
world cannot really afford to lose the trifling revenue, aris- 
ing from this public promenade, why not farm the gardens 
out to a company, instead of stooping to play the showman 
themselves? Such an arrangement would necessarily in- 
volve a division of profits, which the sordid nature of Eng- 
lishmen could not be persuaded to submit to, though they 
should be allowed to reserve the lion's share of the spoils. 
But the genius of the English government appears so happily 
adapted to the routine of a petty showman, it would be a 
pity not to go through it. They are conscious of excelling 
in small exhibitions, and consequently delight in them. 
From the Fire Tower, to the Great Show of all nations, 
their pre-eminence in this line is truly remarkable. They 
have the despicable vanity to feel proud of this accomplish- 
ment, and are eager for its display. They seem to think, 
that success in this very honorable ambition culls fresh 
laurels for the wreathes that Shakspeare has woven, and 
3 



60 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Milton twined ; they seem deluded into the belief that the 
inimitable skill they display in twopenny exhibitions, adds 
to the glory of the nation for which Nelson struggled and 
"Wellington fought. 

But the apex of national turpitude is the charge of six- 
pence for the privilege of visiting Chelsea Hospital, for old 
soldiers. According to the established rules, at Chelsea, 
the payer of sixpence is shown through the refectories, the 
dormitories, and smoking-rooms of the veterans — this is all 
well enough. But when it is remembered, that the payment 
of this paltry coin confers the right of invading the sick 
wards ; of disturbing the suffering invalids, by impertinent 
questions, and rude examinations of themselves and their 
beds, the hardest heart is moved. 

Even charity, which should purely shine in the soul, like 
dew in flowers, becomes in the hands of Englishmen a black- 
grained spot on their honor. Grrudging the pittance of a 
shilling a month to the weather-beaten remnants of these 
once sturdy defenders of their country — the government 
basely make their wounds and their hardships a catchpenny 
show for the multitude. Any nation of atheists might make 
the churches, built in the hated days of belief, a source of 
profit ; — sordid barbarians might degrade the wonderful 
monuments of their more civilized ancestors, by charging 
visitors to see them, — but to drag from their lowly retreat 
these maimed and shattered victims of national ambition, to 
be stared and wondered at, like caged beasts, is an outrage 
against humanity, that even savages would shrink from. 
This is a deed kindly reserved, as the crowning glory of the 
enlightened Britons of the nineteenth century. 

Nell Grwin, who suggested, and her Royal Profligate who 
founded this asylum for old soldiers, would have been 
shocked by such a proposition, embarrassed as they often 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 51 

were in their circumstances. For " pretty witty Nelly" and 
the Merry Monarch were not wholly lost to all the kindlier 
feelings of the human heart, reckless as the careers of both 
had been. Nell was truly charitable, and Charles was so, 
after a fashion of his own, great as their faults undoubtedly 
were ; and either one of them would have scorned so revolt- 
ing a means to raise money, however sadly in want of it 
hey might have been. It remained for the boastful country- 
men of Chaucer and Spenser, Shakspeare and Milton, to 
commit, under the name of charity^ — an outrage, which* they 
alone were capable of conceiving. They may at least exult 
in the consciousness that theirs is no ordinary baseness. 
If it be their ambition to excel in this quality, they cer- 
tainly have reason to feel satisfied with their success. 

The valor with which these disabled veterans had, in 
their youth, defended the government, ought surely to have 
secured to them a quiet refuge for their age. But past ser- 
vices are never remembered by the heartless, 'tis only the 
hope of future profit that quickens their charity. Coming 
into the world as proper food for powder, these poor old fel- 
lows should have felt only too much delighted to compound 
with fate, by becoming inmates of the Chelsea Hospital, 
instead of some ditch on the Continent. Besides, govern- 
ment had given over fifteen millions of dollars to the Duke 
of Wellington, — and they should have felt more than satisfied 
in hearing of the rewards of their commander. What more 
could they expect from their country? The obscurity of 
their origin had placed them beyond the pale of British 
charity — cringing to the great — obsequious to the high — the 
dwarfed souls of Englishmen have no wide-extending sympa- 
thy for the humble — no soothing pity for the lowly. In 
their eyes poverty is crime, — and wretchedness deserves its 
sufferings for having been guilty of the sin of being poor. 



62 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Our be-sixpenced traveller flies in disgust from the 
Zoological Gardens to Chatsworth. But how suddenly are 
all his magnificent notions of luxurious profusion, and 
generous hospitality put to flight, when he is met at the 
gate by the same significant extension of the hand, which 
experience has taught him means no polite welcome, but a 
new demand on his purse. It requires but a few weeks' 
residence in the country to convince him, that an Englishman 
rarely ever extends his hand to a stranger, unless it is to put 
it intfo his pocket. But this all classes make it a rule to do, 
as often, and as deeply, as the loosest interpretation of the 
laws will permit without their incurring the danger of being 
indicted as pickpockets. 

I never was able fully to realize what splendid triumphs 
wealth was capable of, when directed by taste, till I visited 
Chatsworth. It must seem wonderful, even to those accus- 
tomed to the profusion of monarchical governments, that a 
subject should dwell in a palace so gorgeous. Chatsworth 
is worthy of the enterprise which has constructed a branch 
railroad leading to Rowsley, for the accommodation of the 
crowds of visitors, eager to see the magnificence of the man- 
sion, and wander amidst the surpassing beauties of the 
grounds. The showy magnificence of Chatsworth and Blen- 
heim, and the gloomy grandeur of Warwick and Alnwick 
castles, serve to remind us, like the glittering shell of the 
tortoise, what worthless and insignificant animals often 
inhabit the most splendid mansions. 

In all my wanderings I have never seen any thing which 
approached this beautiful seat of the Duke of Devonshire. 
The rigid avenues, and spruce flower-beds of Versailles — the 
floral charms of the Italian villas, and even the varied 
attractions of Windsor and Hampton Court themselves, 
must yield in beauty to the countless fascinations of Chats- 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 53 

worth. To throw open so superb an estate for the free 
enjoyment of the public, seems most munificent. But this 
munificence sinks into meanness, when it is remembered that 
His Grace receives a fee of admission from his visitors. Such 
a proceeding on the part of a nobleman, whose income ex- 
ceeds $5,000 a day, must satisfactorily demonstrate to every 
mind, that though an Englishman may have the pride to 
attempt a magnificent scheme, he lacks the generosity to 
carry it out. Ostentation suggested to the Duke a course 
as princely as his income, but that cohesive sympathy exist- 
ing between a Briton's fingers and ha'pence, chafed parsi- 
mony into reminding him, that he might appear profuse 
and yet save money by the operation. In his eagerness to 
adopt the suggestion, he forgot the first principle in moral 
philosophy, that the intention with which a deed is done, 
and not the deed itself, determines its degree of virtue. In 
his course at Chatsworth, he debases the spirit, whilst he 
retains the form of a noble action. This regal display of 
hospitality is made a cloak for the low cunning of a showman. 
For he is well aware, that this flaming announcement of 
Chatsworth's being thrown open to the public, like the 
charity of Jenny Lind, is well calculated to increase the 
general curiosity. He confirms his nationality, by being 
mean whilst professing to be sumptuous. He pretends to 
open his gorgeous palace for the amusement of the public, 
but takes good care to station a doorkeeper to collect the 
fees of admission to its difi'erent departments. And yet he 
would no doubt be very reluctant frankly to confess to the 
world, that although he had the vanity to affect liberality, 
he was too penurious to bear the expense of it. Like the 
ostrich, he sticks his head in the sand, and imagines himself 
\\\ the profoundest concealment. He seems deluded by the 
hope that the basest counterfeit, emanating from a personage 
of the Duke of Devonshire's rank, must pass current — and 



54 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

that this affected display of public hospitality must inevi- 
tably establish his reputation for generosity. Happy in the 
fancied success of a deception, which he has only been able 
to practise upon himself, this silly noble struts about with 
the airs and pretension of the petted favorite of the king- 
dom. He clearly manifests the opinion he entertains of the 
intelligence of the English people, in supposing them capable 
of being imposed on by so shallow an artifice. The melan- 
choly folly of such vanity can only be injurious to himself. 
People pity him too much to despise him. 

I mean not to intimate that any portion of the large 
amounts collected at the doors of Chatsworth actually goes 
into the pockets of His Grace. But they are, nevertheless, 
remarkably convenient in defraying the expense of a large 
household of servants. The Duke owns besides Chatsworth, 
Hardwick Hall, Bolton Abbey, Lismore Castle, Devonshire 
House, and Chiswick, the large establishments of all of 
which magnificent seats must be maintained in a style be- 
coming his rank and enormous fortune. The opportunity, 
afforded by the unsurpassed attractions of Chatsworth to 
get rid of the expense of one of them, was much too tempt- 
ing to be resisted by a native of His Grace's country — he 
therefore sullies a noble name to add a few paltry pounds 
to a fortune which is eventually to be enjoyed by strangers. 
No foreigner would hesitate at half-a-crown, and not many 
Englishmen would grumble at sixpence, as a gratuity to the 
different servants showing them through the house and 
grounds — so trifling a remuneration only becomes offensive 
when it is demanded as a right. No one could consider the 
amount oppressive : on the contrary, all must acknowledge 
the show to be a remarkably cheap one ; but 'tis the sordid 
principle that so offends every enlightened feeling. The 
idea of a private gentleman, of wealth and rank, deriving a 
profit from the exhibition of his grounds, must be equally re- 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 55 

volting to all classes. Iii such a course there is so glaring 
a violation of propriety, that the meanest cannot fail to dis- 
cover it. 

The highly acquisitive disposition of the Duke appears 
to be a birthright ; the Countess of Shre-wsbury, the founder 
of the family, having turned her great beauty to some ac- 
count, in marrying four rich husbands, and prevailing on all 
of them to settle their fine estates on her, and her heirs for 
ever. In this judicious arrangement, the large fortunes of 
Kobert Barlow of Barlow, Sir William Cavendish, Sir "Wil- 
liam St. Loe, and the Earl of Shrewsbury, were all, by the 
fascinations of Miss Elizabeth Hardwick, amalgamated into 
one overgrown estate, for the future Dukes of Devonshire. 
She had an heir by Sir William Cavendish, from whom the 
family are descended. William the fourth Earl of Devon- 
shire was created a Duke by William III., as a reward for 
his treachery to the reigning sovereign ; and the present 
Duke seems to consider it impossible farther to degrade a 
title acquired in such a way. 

But the unworthiness of its owner cannot mar the un- 
rivalled elegance of Chatsworth. Ogres have often before 
been known to dwell in enchanted castles of fairy propor- 
tions. The exterior of the mansion is rendered impressive 
by a graceful facade of Ionic columns ; its interior is crowded 
with every thing that luxury could suggest, or wealth supply. 
Its ceilings are adorned with the brilliant frescoes of Yerrio, 
and Sir James Thornhill ; its rooms of state are hung with 
the finest specimens of Goblin tapestry. The walls of its 
picture galleries are filled with works by the old masters ; 
and among them is Landseer's famous Bolton Abbey, ex- 
hibiting more breathing animation, and fuller of genius than 
any modern picture I have ever seen. Here, too, are to be 
met with many exquisite specimens of female loveliness, in 
the peculiar floating and voluptuous style of Sir Thomas 



5Q ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Lawrence. In the elegant collection of statuary may be 
numbered pieces by Canova, Thorwaldsen, Westmacott, and 
Tanerani, the best of living Italian artists. Opening from 
this exquisite gallery is the orangery, made poetically at- 
tractive by the rare exotics, statues, and birds, that divide 
the attention. Many of the superb apartments are rendered 
doubly interesting by the extraordinany carvings in wood, 
by Gribbons. It is wonderful to study the exquisite grace, 
and lightness, which he has imparted to his fruit and flowers. 
The turn of a leaf or the delicacy of a flower are as divinely 
given, as if things cut in wood were not proverbial com- 
parisons for all that is stiff and ungainly. It would be im- 
possible to conceive of the inimitable naturalness which he 
has succeeded in throwing into the relaxed limbs and droop- 
ing wings of dead hares and partridges — even, the distended 
gills of fish are represented, with a delicate success, that 
painting itself would fail to equal. 

But the grounds present the highest claims to beauty. 
In no country in the world do the trees seem more coolly 
shady, or does the grass look greener than in England. The 
humid climate appears peculiarly adapted to the develop- 
ment of all their beauties in these greatest ornaments of na- 
ture. A man cannot know the delicious charms of the Eng- 
lish greensward — so fresh, so dark, so closely cut and carefully 
swept that it may, even in prose, be said to look like a green 
velvet carpet — till he has rolled on it, under the thick shade 
of the drooping elms. A poet would fail to do it justice in 
his happiest description. The grassplots of Chatsworth are 
tastefully broken by lakes, fountains, and flower-gardens, and 
from these you could wander away down the shady avenues 
of fine old trees, whose rustling leaves would whisper to you 
nothing but the poetic legends of the past. The luxurious 
softness of this portion of the landscape is strongly con- 
trasted with the wild, almost savage nature of the scenery 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. ^ 5*7 

beyond. From a lofty crag in the distance, made pictu- 
resque by crowning firs and rocky pinnacles, a waterfall foams 
and tumbles with the roar and precipitation of some mountain 
torrent in Switzerland. Still farther off is a small cascade, 
whose shadowy stream, undulating as it pours down the bare 
side of the cliff, looks like some delicate veil of silver tissue, 
gently stirred by the lazy summer winds. The soft realms 
of beauty, in which greensward and flowers contend for the 
mastery, cease at the banks of the river, which, on the other 
side from the waterfall, winds in graceful curves far as the 
eye can reach through the sunny meadow-land. The farther 
banks of the silent stream slowly rise into gentle elevations, 
shaded here and there with clumps of scrubby oaks, beneath 
whose shadow crouch whole herds of dozing deer. When 
wearied with this warmly glowing picture, the visitor turns 
his footsteps towards the famous conservatory, of which 
everybody has heard so much, and passing beneath some 
thick trees he suddenly finds himself in the loneliest of wild 
scenes. Huge masses of rocks, now gray and moss-grown, 
and often half concealed with flowering mountain shrubs, 
have been so artfully piled, that one is reluctant to doubt 
that nature has placed them there. The effect of suddenly 
issuing from a spot, smiling with the rarest cultivation, into a 
scene so rugged, was delightful in the extreme. He pauses to 
watch the merry gambols of a noisy little brook, that comes 
bounding and pitching towards him as it chafes into foam 
against the rocks that obstruct its course. As it nears the 
spot where he stands, it rolls more calmly over its shiny 
pebble bed, muttering its complaints against the roughness 
of its recent encounter with the rocks, in a low babble full 
of melody. It steals on through banks of freshest verdure, 
gemmed with wild violets, whose perfume fills the air ; its 
murmurs cease, its course is almost stilled, and it lingers as 
if enamored of so sweet a lurking-place. Then it goes 
3^^ 



58 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

creeping and peering among the tall water-lilies, whose nod- 
ding blooms of white seem laughingly to reprove the tru- 
ant stream. Again dashing away among the projecting 
rocks, whose mossy points are more than half concealed by 
the purple clusters of the rhododendrons, and the delicate 
flowers of the mountain laurel, our brook goes rejoicing on 
its way, skipping, wheeling, and dodging, as if in a game of 
hide and seek with the delighted traveller. Once more it 
calmly glides into the broad open space, silent, as if in the 
ineffable joy of being so near the end of its varied pilgrim- 
age. Slowly it moves along, and finally sinks upon the 
bosom of the expectant lake, without disturbing the glassy 
stillness of its surface, which is only broken by some playful 
carp, that occasionally bounds into the soft summer air. 

The great conservatory is perhaps the greatest wonder of 
the whole establishment, although the one we are most famil- 
iar with. On his way thither the visitor passes innumerable 
fountains of various designs ; among them is the highest jet 
of water in Europe, and a fantastic weeping willow of 
bronze, which scatters around the most refreshing showers, 
from every leaf and twig. He must also pause to admire 
the grand cascade, which, issuing from a temple-like struc- 
ture on the hill, rolls down a long succession of marble 
steps, dashing its spray upon the antique vases and statues 
with which they are adorned. The conservatory, which pre- 
vious to the erection of the Crystal Palace was the largest 
structure of its kind in the world, has a carriage road 
through its midst, and measures 276 feet one way, and 123 
the other. It looks like two vast cjpmes of rounding oblong, 
rather than circular form, piled one upon the other — has 67 
feet of height in its central arched roof and a span of 70 
feet, and contains more than 70,000 square feet of glass. 
In its vast collection are assembled all the rarer and more 
beautiful plants from the sunny climes of the East and 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 59 

South. The bristling cocoanut, the clustering banana, and 
the unsightly date, are the stateliest specimens of these curi- 
ous representatives of the tropics. Does it not seem strange 
that a man, residing amidst a scene of surpassing grandeur 
and beauty, should fail to imbibe some elevation of spirit 
from surrounding nature ? Does it not appear extraor- 
dinary that a man, dwelling in a spot of such fairy loveli- 
ness, should retain, and indulge the most grovelling in- 
stincts of human nature's lowest grade ? 

Up to as late a date as 1834, the English game laws ex- 
isted in a form to embody all the rigor and injustice of the 
Forest Laws, presenting but this solitary difference, that the 
former were maintained for the amusement of four hundred 
tj^rants. whilst the latter were enacted for the gratification 
of a single despot. By the extraordinary legislation of 
these titled lawgivers of England, game was rendered more 
sacred and inviolate than property. These sporting Lycur- 
guses arbitrarily selected certain beasts of the field and 
fowls of the air, and made it highly criminal in any " base- 
born person " " to kill them, or eat them, or buy them, or 
sell them, or carry them, or to have in his possession any en- 
gine or instrument, by which they might be slain, maimed, 
or injured." Nobody but a qualified person could amuse 
himself by a shot at a partridge or hare. A rich merchant 
or manufacturer might own land, and give employment to 
thousands of laborers, but his wealth being base^ he enjoyed 
no right to interfere with the aristocratic pleasures of his 
noble betters. Woodcocks, pheasants, partridges, and hares, 
were delicacies which he was forbidden even to taste. The 
sages of the King's Bench finally ruled that " a qualified 
person might take out a tradesman, stock-broker, clothier, 
attorney, surgeon, or other inferior person, to beat the 
bushes, and see a hare killed, without being liable to to pen- 



60 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

alty." But woo to the unlucky wight who took a private 
shot on his own account, but could not attach some noble 
title to his name. Nobility was a qualification absolutely 
essential to a man's becoming a shooter. All unqualified 
persons were not only denied the amusement of killing 
game, but they were not allowed the privilege of buying of 
those who were. The "game" flavor of partridges and 
hares was not to be tainted, by passing through the unqual- 
ified hands of chapmen and higglers. Their aristocratic 
qualities were not to be destroyed by being retailed, like 
ale and dipped candles, by tradespeople. "Victuallers, 
poulterers, pastry cooks, and other mean persons should not 
carry game nor have it in possession." If an unqualified 
person were suspected of having game, or any dog, gun, or 
snare for killing or wounding it, his house might be searched, 
and if any net, or snare, pheasant, partridge, fish, fowl, or 
other game were found, the offender might be forthwith car- 
ried before a justice, and fined, or sent to the House of Cor- 
rection, and there whipped, and kept to hard labor." " If a 
man only happened to spoil or tread on an egg of a par- 
tridge, pheasant, mallard, teal, bittern, or heron, he was 
fined or imprisoned." " But if he went forth in the night 
for the third time, with the full intent of catching an aristo- 
crat bird, coney, or other game, he was transported beyond 
the seas for seven years." Notwithstanding these absurd 
restrictions, and severe enactments against the disturbance 
of privileged birds, by unqualified persons, it was discovered 
by a committee of the House of Lords in 1828, that game 
was as regular an article for sale in all the markets of Lon- 
don, as any other commodity. One salesman alone sold 500 
head of game in a week. It was impossible for their Lord- 
ships longer to pretend ignorance of a fact they had long 
been aware of. They therefore found it necessary to make 
the astounding discovery, that the noble Lords themselves 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 61 

must be the principal offenders in this illicit but profitable 
traffic in game. 

Game had been up to this period like the national honor 
— something for whose preservation every idle upstart felt 
himself personally responsible. All classes of society united 
in regarding with becoming horror the unpardonable sin of 
poaching ; and the antipathy to poachers was as universal, 
among the descendants of Mother Eve by the English line, 
as the hatred of snakes is supposed to be natural to her pos- 
terity generally. Not even the example of the illustrious 
Bard of Avon could elevate the nocturnal forages of the 
poacher, into being placed in the same category with the 
dashing exploits of Captain McHeath, or bold Dick Turpin. 
Faithful serving-men, in expectancy of pensions, ingratiated 
themselves with their masters, by midnight prowlings after 
poachers. Ignorant country magistrates displayed their 
zealous inefficiency in committing all suspected persons for 
trial. Rollicking Squires, the Sir Rotgut Wildfires of the 
country, won easy reputations as public-spirited individuals, 
by their blustering protection of " game ;" and the county 
assizes never considered their docket complete, unless some 
unfortunate vagabond had been transported for poaching. 
The genius of the English nation was emphatically opposed 
to the crime, — and the solitary poacher was pursued with 
that sort of vindictive enthusiasm which centuries before 
had characterized the wolf-hunt. Is it possible to suppose, 
under such circumstances, that the large quantities of game, 
daily sold in the markets of London, could have been sup- 
plied by the stray poachers, whom keen-eyed prosecution 
had allowed to escape transportation ? It was an absurdity 
that occurred to the obtuse understandings of their Lord- 
ships themselves. They stood convicted of the violation of 
the laws they had passed, expressly to break, in order to se- 
cure the privilege of the exclusive sale of game. 



62 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

These noble outlaws, who professed to regard a trades- 
man as a more honest, but much less reputable personage 
than a highwayman, and would have shrunk from an impu- 
tation of trade, as from an accusation of picking a pocket — 
were yet detected in this peddling traffic under circum- 
stances which should have caused most of them to make 
voyages to Botany Bay, if the laws had been as strictly en- 
forced against rich offenders, as ordinary poachers. Game 
was*found to constitute a surreptitious branch of huckster- 
ing, much too profitable to their Lordships to be shared 
with plebeian rivals, so long as the monopoly could be en- 
joyed by stealth. But when their felonious practices were 
exposed, each noble hypocrite rolled his eyes in horror at 
the extent to which poaching had been carried, and began to 
fear that the Game Laws, like Draco's bloody code, de- 
feated themselves by their own severity. Notwithstanding 
their well-assumed surprise, that daring outlaws enough ex- 
isted in England habitually to violate laws so stringent, 
they were overwhelmed by the consciousness that every 
Briton, though silent, was convinced that they themselves 
were the violators of these laws. All England was aware 
that, in order to secure their dirty gains, they endangered 
the liberty of unsuspecting victuallers, and inoffensive poul- 
terers — whose position did not place them above the laws — 
by making them accomplices in their petty-larceny villany. 
The profits were enticing, but the odium was oppressive : 
they therefore became willing to share the first to shuffle off 
a portion of the last. Though endued with all the worst 
propensities of the common poacher, without that apology 
which want and misery afforded him for breaking the laws, 
to prevent starvation, they showed themselves destitute of 
that intrepidity of action, which inspires an involuntary sort 
of respect, even for an outlaw. Base enough to profit by 
unlawful practices, they became yet more despicable, when 
ihe}^ tiinidly thrust innocent people botweeii themselves and 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 



63 



responsibility. I feel an increased contempt for a poltroon, 
mean enough to commit a dishonest deed, without the hardi- 
hood to brave the consequences of his own roguery. They 
were arrant knaves, without one mitigating circumstance to 
plead in their favor. Their fortunes, in placing them so far 
above want, should have removed them from those tempta- 
tions to evil, which, when heightened by hunger, the poor 
must find it so difiicult to resist. Nobody but an English- 
man could fail justly to discriminate between the guilt of 
two persons, one of whom, though rich, commits theft in the 
mere wantonness of depravity, and the other, who steals a 
loaf of bread to relieve a starving family. Equity leans 
towards recommending the impoverished wretch to mercy, 
but English ethics favors the rich criminal, whose wealth 
should only be a stronger reason for his condemnation. 
Such is the mystic inviolability of money in England. 
Even the heinous crime of poaching, which, in a plebeian, is 
punished with such inexorable severity, becomes, in a Lord, 
"justifiable" petty larceny. One poacher is transported to 
a colony of felons, but the other remains comfortably at 
home, to inotect the gamc^ and deplore the proneness of the 
lower orders to depravity. 

Detected in the violation of those laws which they them- 
selves had passed, and for whose strict execution they pre- 
tended to be eager, the nobility could no longer pretend to 
maintain the ancient game code. A law was accordingly 
passed in 1834, allowing all owners of land to kill game 
themselves, and permitting them to extend the permission to 
other persons. When it is remembered how •money is wor- 
shipped in England, and how highly prized is the privilege 
to shoot, we may be very certain, though the landowners 
might be sordid enough to rent out their sporting rights, 
which very many of them do, that the shooting of game was 
exclusively confined to the wealthier classes of the country. 
There is a vast demand for this btill half-interdietiMl luxury 



64 ENGLISH ITEMS. 



% 



of game to be supplied in all the markets of the United 
Kingdom. Human nature has apparently inherited from 
our first parents a decided weakness for forbidden fruits ; r 
and this strong inclination is heightened in the numerous 
class of rich pretenders, by one equally powerful — a desire 
to ape the aristocracy in their fish dinners and game suppers. 
When the naturally voracious appetites of the 27,000,000 
of Englishmen are increased by two such powerful incen- 
tives, we can but wonder how they can ever be gratified by 
game, though the 30,000 landowners should all take to 
sporting. If each one of these fortunate 30,000 should 
shoot, as the most zealous sportsman would, and dispose of 
his surplus game, it would be utterly impossible to keep up 
the requisite supply. It is evident that they must assail the 
doomed pheasants and partridges with some more powerful 
motive than that which actuates the keenest sportsmen. No 
one can doubt that, during the Fall months, these privileged 
landowners and their friends engage in the profitable busi- 
ness of wholesale poulterers, which they pursue with an in- 
tensity of ardor only known to Englishmen, when in full cry 
upon the scent of a sixpence. The nobility, the gentry, and 
their guests are the hired butchers, who annually contract 
to slaughter the required quantity of game. 

Diana and Apollo came into the world together. The 
patrons of hunting and the arts are twins ; and even in these 
modern days of degeneracy, the worshippers at the shrine of 
one are certain to imbibe some of the doctrines of the other. 
No man can be an enthusiastic sportsman without possessing 
some of that- refinement usually produced by a cultivation 
of the fine arts. A real hunter, however wild in his habits, 
or savage in his attire, is certain to have in him some of the 
elements peculiar to a gentleman. Apollo has kindly im- 
parted some of his native graces to the humblest of his twin 
sister's votaries. 

There is somethiiig in the adventurous life of a hunter 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 65 

peculiarly adapted to the development of liberal feelings. 
In the wild woods he has no suspicion, and knows no dis- 
trust of his fellow-men. Eternally communing with nature, 
his soul must, in spite of all his disadvantages, be influenced 
by the grandeur of the objects around him. The vastness 
of the forest solitudes leaves room for the growth of all the 
nobler impulses of man's nature. He may be destitute of 
the advantages of a cultivated mind, he may have been de- 
prived of all education from books ; but he will always dis- 
play that scorn of a mean action, that unthinking generosity 
and native courtesy, which constitute the basis of true gen- 
tility. What then must we think of these professed followers 
of Diana, who degrade their goddess and themselves by sell- 
ing the sacrifices avowedly made for her altar ? How few 
of the generous impulses of the real sportsman can actuate 
the man, who meanly retails the game he kills. If his tastes 
enabled him truly to enjoy shooting, they would protect the 
sport from such desecration. Even the least sordid of these 
Englishmen experience none of the intense excitement and 
joyful exhilaration of the sportsman, — they hunt, as they 
patronize the arts, because they consider it gentlemanly to 
do so. Shooting is deemed a peculiar propensity of the gen- 
tlemen, as the masses are wholly excluded from its indul- 
gence, and a cockney affects the pea-jacket and hob-nailed 
shoes of the sportsman, as he frequents the opera with white 
kids and a lorgnette.^ merely because he is ambitious of ap- 
pearing fashionable. Every gentleman goes down to the 
country to shoot, and so, of course, must he. But though 
he throws off his prim city suit, for the free-and-easy cos- 
tume of the country, he cannot so readily dispose of his sor- 
did inclinations. True to his nature, he makes a profit of 
his very pastimes. In obedience to the instincts of an Eng- 
lishman, he degrades the noblest of manly exercises into the 
dirty means of petty gain. He sells the game, which he 
professes to shoot for excitement. 



66 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Honor is something which the whole world has united in 
holding sacred even when religion has tottered. It is what 
man most covets, and woman most admires. Honor is the 
attribute in which mortals most resemble gods. For honor 
heroes have fought and minstrels have sung. It is something 
to which even savages aspire with instinctive adoration. For 
honor men live, for honor they will die. It is more precious 
than poetry itself, for poets are eager to embalm it in their 
verse. Men cling to honor even when hopes of salvation are 
lost. I can conceive of a man of refined mind becoming so 
wicked as to sell his own soul, but I cannot imagine a noble 
being so debased as to part with its honor. The danger 
which makes the possesion of honor doubtful, makes it 
precious. The hero's glory has ever been regarded the 
highest. A soldier's honor like a woman's chastity was wont 
to be considered above all price. England enjoys the dis- 
tinction of making it a marketable commodity. It was re- 
served for her to fix the rate at which it might be bought 
and sold. She retails the honor of soldiers according to an 
established tariff, which appropriately adorns all her public 
places. She speculates in glory as a petty hucksterer does 
in rancid cheese. But the many who hate, and the few who 
despise England, cannot exult over her baseness in selling 
commissions in her own army. There is a degree of degra- 
dation, which changes scorn into pity ; and makes us sin- 
cerly sympathize with those whom we most heartily despise. 

I extract a leaf, for the amusement of my readers, from 
the Army List, which is published every month by authority. 
of the War Office. Among a vast deal of information with 
regard to the change of quarters, promotions and resigna- 
tions, deaths and marriages of the officers, it contains the 
following table for the edification of the curious with regard 
to the QHcrit promotions which have occurred. It is extremely 
useful to rich young gentlemen in England, who are am- 
bitious of becoming heroes ; and will I hope prove not un- 



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND. 



67 



interesting to my readers in America. The table is conve- 
niently arranged in pounds, shillings and pence ; it is well 
enough I presume to be particular even to minuteness in so 
important a transaction as the sale of a reputation. 

PRICES OF COMMISSIONS. 



BANK. 



Full Price of 
Commissions. 



Difference in 

value be- 
tween the se- 
verul Com- 
missions in 
succession. 



Difference in 

vi\lue between 

Full and Half 

Pay. 



Life Guards. 

Lieutenant-Colonel 

Major 

Captain 

Lieutenant 

Cornet 

Royal Regiment of Horse Guards. 

Lieutenant-Colonel 

Major 

Captain 

Lieutenant 

Cornet 

Dragoon Guards and Dragoons. 

Lieutenant-Colonel 

Major 

Captain 

Lieutenant 

Cornet 

Foot Guards. 

Lieutenant-Colonel 

Major, -with Rank of Colonel 

Captain, Lieut.-Col. 

Lieutenant, Captain 

Ensign, Lieutenant 

Regiments of the Line. 

Lieutenant-Colonel 

Major 

Captain 

Lieutenant 

Ensign 

Fusilier and Rifle Regiments. 

1st Lieutenant 

2d Lieutenant 



I. s. 

7250 

5350 

3500 

1785 

1260 



7250 

5350 

3500 

1600 

1200 



6175 

4575 

3225 

1190 

840 



9000 

8800 

4800 

2050 

1200 



4500 

3200 

1800 

700 

450 



700 
500 



I. s. 
1900 



1850 

1715 

525 



1900 

1850 

1900 

400 



1600 

1350 

2035 

350 



700 

3500 

2750 

850 



1300 

1400 

1100 

250 



200 



I. s. d. 



1583 

1352 

1034 3 4 

632 13 4 

300 



1314 

949 

511 

365 

150 



365 
200 



68 ENGLISH ITEMS. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE CUSTOM-HOUSE. 

THIS chapter shall be a very brief one; for though I 
rather courted the bores of the custom-house as a good 
subject for railing at the English, yet they so far surpassed 
all my preconceived notions of their exaggeration, that I 
cannot now remember them with sufl&cient patience to write. 
But I feel that no description, however glowing, could por- 
tray them in their real hideousness. To those who have 
experienced the annoyance, my description would seem tame 
and unsatisfactory, and those happy mortals who have never 
been subjected to the insolence of English custom-house 
officers, had better remain in blissful ignorance of what may 
be in store for them. I once attempted to show that 
Englishmen were instinctively insolent, but I had a very 
vague idea of what I was describing, I was only familiar 
with insolence as we read of it, and as we see it under ordi- 
nary circumstances in its embryo state. I had never met with 
it in its perfected development — for I had, at that time, never 
passed through the English custom-house. One can form 
some idea of the tyranny concealed amidst the vast ramifi- 
cations of the English government, when its vulgar fractions 
in the shape of custom-house officials are so tyrannically 
insolent. 

But as I said before, I shall not dwell upon the weary 
hours we were compelled to wait, jammed and crowded 
together in a small pen ; our feet trampling on other 
people's toes, and our elbows in every body else's ribs. I 
shall not allude to the annoyance of having the little private 



THE CUSTOM-HOUSE. 69 

stores of the passengers subjected to the most scrutinizing 
inspection. I shall not attempt to describe the provoking 
deliberation of these impertinent underlings in counting 
segars ; nor the prying curiosity with which they peeped 
into pots of preserved ginger, and slyly tasted cans of 
pickled oysters. I shall pass over their manner of turning 
over and suspiciously snuffing a Bologna sausage, as if 
apprehensive of its being some infernal machine on a com- 
plicated plan, expressly imported for the destruction of the 
Queen. I shall not dilate upon the minuteness with which 
they scrutinized soiled linen, and their persevering manner 
of rummaging through old boots. I shall not even indulge 
in the solace of a caricature of our chief tormentor, a round- 
bellied gentleman in black, with more flesh and pomposity 
than even Englishmen are ordinarily encumbered with. He 
was very evidently above his business, and was too fat, or 
too blind, or too ostentatious, or perhaps all three, to read 
the list of passengers with that fluency desirable to impa- 
tient people. But he insisted that every thing should be con- 
ducted with formal solemnity, that was positively outrageous. 
Even after the tedious process of a minute examination had 
been passed by one happy man, he delayed the rest by clum- 
sily fumbling for the ribbon from which dangled his glass : 
then he was a long time adjusting his glass to one eye, and 
a still longer time shutting the other, before he could begin 
to spell over the entire list till he came to the name below 
the last. Then it would have puzzled the Delphic Oracle 
to divine whom he meant when he did call out a name, his 
sight was so bad or his pronunciation so horrible. All this 
I shall glide over in comparative silence, but there is one 
little incident I must beg leave to mention. 

I had provided myself with a good many books, to amuse 
me during the voyage, but being aware that American re- 
prints of English works were confiscated, I had purposely 



YO ENGLISH ITEMS. j 

avoided them. I supposed of course that English books, j 
with London and my own name staring them in the face \ 
from the title-page, would pass unmolested. The books, | 
besides having my name written in them, had been too evi- j 
dently read for them to suspect me of an unlawful attempt i{ 
to peddle books without a license. But they emptied my ) 
trunk and carpet bag, and jjroceeded to tveigh the whole lot 
as a means of ascertaining their value and determining the I 
amount of duty due on them. An admirable criterion of j 
the English estimate of literature at the present day. I j 
had eight pounds of books, and paid four shillings, which \ 
justifies me in concluding that the retail price of knowledge ! 
in England is sixpence a pound ; somewhat cheaper than i 
damaged herrings. To tax books at all which were evident- 
ly intended for personal amusement or instruction was bar- { 
barous, in the most extended sense of the term ; but the j 
manner of ascertaining their value struck me as being pecu- i 
liarly English. They were piled into a large pair of scales, 
and weighed as we do live hogs in the West. What degra- j 
dation to some of the mightiest names that England has' 
produced. But pet copies of Shakspeare and Byron onlyj 
differed in their eyes from a keg of lard in not being so heavy, ,' 
and consequently less valuable. 

I have an abiding conviction, that the statesman who in- 
troduced the law upon tbe introduction of books, was an ad- 
miring reader of Knickerbocker ; Walter the Doubter : 
must have been his highest judicial authority. His statute 
bears a startling resemblance to the only decision of that 
famous Dutch Lawgiver, when he commanded the ledgers 
of two litigating grocers to be weighed and gave judgment 
in favor of him whose ledger was heaviest. Their estimate 
of justice and knowledge were equally extended, and equally 
worthy of this most enlightened nation of the nineteenth 
century. 



RURAL SCENERY, Yl 



CHAPTER lY. 

EUEAL SCENEEY. 

THIS England — the country I mean — the fields, the trees, 
and the hedges, is truly very, very beautiful. Pleasing 
at all seasons from its tidy evidences of superior cultivation, 
it becomes enchanting when seen, as I lately saw it, whilst 
every leaf and spear of grass shone with the glistening 
freshness of early spring. I positively believe I should feel 
enthusiastically in love with the country, if I could for one 
little half hour forget the nation. But being unfortunately 
situated like Yankee Doodle, when he complained that '' he 
could not see the town for the houses," I can never admire 
the country, without being reminded of the people. 

The pastoral scenery of England is peculiar, possessing 
all the polish of art in its highest perfection, without its prim- 
ness. Soft and shining as a long summer's day, the full- 
blown charms of the island droop under their fairy loads of 
poetry and loveliness. Well may it be named the Eden 
of the universe, but its inhabitants with equal justice may 
be denominated the "fallen" of creation. The beauties of 
England being those of a dream, should be as fleeting. To 
a man whose blood needs no champagne to hurry its cours- 
ing, with a fancy as swift as the steam that hurls him along, 
they never appear so charming as when dashing on after a 
locomotive at forty miles an hour. Nothing by the way re- 
quires study, or demands meditation, and though objects imme- 



1^ ENGLISH ITEMS. 

diately at hand seem tearing wildly by, yet the distant fields 
and scattered trees, are not so bent on eluding observation, 
but dwell long enough in the eye to leave their undying im- 
pression. Every thing is so quiet, so fresh, so full of home, and 
destitute of prominent objects to detain the eye, or distract 
the attention from the charms of the enchanting whole, that I 
love to dream through these placid beauties, whilst sailing in 
the air, quick, as if astride a tornado. All things then as- 
sume the delicious indistinctness of some bright vision, 
during an after-dinner doze in an arm-chair. Nothing then 
appears so palpable as to break the hazy drowsiness of the 
scene, by its too substantial reality. 

Thick-headed tourists, who have no poetry in their souls, 
may sneer at the idea of enjoying the rural scenery of Eng- 
land from the window of a railroad car. Such mathematical 
individuals would fain take the dimensions of each fairy land- 
scape, as a mason would measure the proportions of a brick 
wall. But give me the velocity, the exhilaration, and the 
panting breezes of the cars ; let me enjoy the shadowy 
charms and softly-creeping fascinations of an English land- 
scape, seen from their windows. There is wild delight in 
the consciousness of such motion. There is intense excite- 
ment in this shadowless velocity. There is glorious inde- 
pendence in the power of bounding to a place, swiftly al- 
most as the conception of the wish to be there. What 
could be more intoxicating than this tumultuous throb of min- 
gled emotions, felt in this panorama of green fields and flow- 
ers, gliding fleetly and softly as the fancies of the opium eater ? 

" Will you make an excursion with me from Liverpool ' 
up to London ? Be quick ; whilst you hesitate we may both [ 
be left. The express train starts at the minute, without 
delaying for loitering passengers. You will go? Very 
well ; here you are." We are off; already grinding through 
" utter darkness," where there is no " gnashing of teeth," 



RURAL SCENERY. 73 

but a fearful clash of wheels : we are in the tunnel. Sud- 
denly we shoot into open air like a sunbeam piercing a fog, 
and the boundless beauty of the landscape breaks at once 
upon us. Liverpool is already a mile behind. Far as the 
eye can reach, on every side, it is greeted with the same 
lovely view. We rush through a succession of fresh green 
fields and greener hedges ; of villages embowered in fruit 
trees, with the tapering spires of country churches modestly 
overlooking them; of bustling market towns, and smoky 
manufacturing cities, which do not interrupt the character of 
the scenery, but serve pleasingly to dot the vast expanse of 
shining verdure. The fresh-springing crops of grain trem- 
bled to the lazy breezes, and sometimes seemed to wave for 
very gracefulness, when there was no breath to stir them. 
The scene appeared a wanton waste of loveliness. I could 
not reconcile myself to the thought that these beauteous 
meadows, so thickly strewn with flowers that one might 
imagine them an emerald copy of the starry heavens, were 
only kept to graze beef cattle. It could not be, that these 
hedges, trimmed with such exquisite taste, were only intended 
as ordinary barriers against erratic horses, and trespassing 
sheep. Every thing was too, too beautiful for this ! But 
just when the eyes reeled, and sense grew drunk, and I was 
dreaming of the frolics of Puck, and the fairy reign of 
Titania, plump we came upon a brick-yard, with its prim 
rows fresh from the moulds, and its pyramidal kilns smok- 
ing away, to remind me that this delicious land of verdure 
and flowers, was not only inhabited by the English, but that 
they were commonplace enough to shut themselves up in 
brick walls from all this loveliness. And then, in spite of 
myself, came gloomy pictures of English ogres in Elysian 
gardens, flitting across my mind, like the passing shadows of 
clouds over some sunny landscape. But these unwelcome 
thoughts are dispelled by the sight of a lowly thatched cot, 



I 



74 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

with a rosy-faced baby hurrying on all fours to the front 
door, as its chubby little brothers and sisters climb the 
wicket gate to greet us with their tiny cheers, as we JBit gayly 
by. A blossoming clover field fills the whole atmosphere, as 
we pass, with its deliciously refreshing odor. And look at 
those beans, wagging as knowingly their flowery heads, and 
giving birth to as much poetry and perfume, as if they had 
not been planted there for horse-feed. Every thing was en- 
chanting except the sky. and that was cold and gray enough. 
But what of that 1 It is only the background to an exqui- 
site picture, and nobody ever dreams of regarding it. 

Now we rattle through a bustling market town, with its 
little alehouses, and staring squads of idlers. An ambitious 
village cur darts furiously out, and vainly tries with us his 
speed, snapping and yelping as if to frighten our spirited 
steam-courser. We swiftly pass fields, ready prepared for 
late crops, so perfectly ploughed and harrowed that they 
look like huge pieces of brown satin stretched upon the 
green. See, winding through those lovely meadows, that 
deep, narrow stream of clearest water, brimming its banks 
of living verdure, and so placid it scarcely stirs the long 
moss floating on its edges. No trees fringe its banks ; it 
steals before us with its nude beauties unveiled. In its 
gentle course it makes a thousand picturesque bends, and 
wanders about as if seeking to lose itself in these grassy 
plains. It has no hurrying occupation ; no mills to turn, no 
roaring rivers to feed. It is but an elegant idler in this 
delightful champaign country. And as it loiters lazily 
along, it dreams of no more arduous task, than lending new 
beauties to my Lord's beautiful estate. I am sorry that last 
idea occurred to me — for my thoughts made a sudden transi- 
tion to the worthlessness of all lackeys to the rich and great ; 
the lazy footmen, dozing butlers, insolent grooms, and, I was 
^oing to say, placid streams — but T stopped. For there was 



RURAL SCENERY. 75 

a rustic bridge, so rude, so crazy, and so picturesque, it 
must have been thrown across the stream merely to prevent 
the possibility of ike scene's sinking into too much softness. 
Nobody would ever dream of crossing on it — it seemed only 
put there to look at, and it may be to interrupt disagreeable 
trains of thought. A flock of noisy rooks mount high into 
air, wheeling and cawing around us as if to speed us on our 
way. A large herd of fine short-horned cattle are browsing 
in social little knots, and look up and gaze stupidly after us 
as we roll smoothly by. The whistle sounds : we are ap- 
proaching some station. Gradually we lessen our speed, and 
finally stop. The " company's servants," in coarse liveries of 
black velveteen, with the initials of the particular railroad, 
and their numbers, marked in white cloth on their collars, 
rapidly move from car to car, unlocking them, and loudly 
announcing the name of the station, and its various connec- 
tions. There is much slamming of doors as people get out, 
because they have arrived at their journey's end, or merely 
to stretch their legs. The low hum of the passengers and 
porters, hurriedly searching for baggage, is mingled with the 
shrill cries of news-boys, running up and down the platform 
along the train, with this morning's papers from London. 
Then comes the warning bell ; and then the final order of 
the conductor. Then there is again great slamming of doors, 
which are all relocked — the whistle sounds, and off we 
bound after two minutes' delay in our flying journey. 

We rush through a labyrinth of cottages and gardens, 
full of comfort and cabbages, with their trim hedges appro- 
priately adorned with blue smockfrocks and wet breeches 
hung out to dry. A large flock of newly-sheared Southdown 
sheep are quietly grazing in the neighboring field, but^ on 
our approach, hurriedly scamper ofi" with much shaking of 
short tails and ringing of sheep-bells. Is it not beautiful ? 
that deep brawling brook with its lofty banks, wild, broken, 



76 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

and picturesque, spanned by a single arch of stone, crum- 
bling and moss-grown, through which it foams ; it rushes 
madly into a wooded glen, where it is 'whollj?' lost to view, 
and when again it gladdens the eye, it is warring bravely 
with the green slimy wheel of a mill — -a hoary patriarch, 
that may have ground flour for Cromwell's troopers. The 
country beautifully undulating, as if under the agitating 
influence of its own surpassing charms, now rises into gentle 
slopes, now runs into wavy irregularities, then sinks into 
unbroken level. It seemed that some tasteful hand had 
been at work in its arrangement, to produce the happiest 
display of its wooded hills and green walled vales. The 
variety, in size and shape, of these hedge-bound fields is 
endless. Shady trees, scattered through them all, break 
into ever-varying effects the vast sheet of shining green. 
Considerable tracts of woodland meet the eye at every turn ; 
their changing foliage clustering under the magical effects 
of light and shadow to lend some new fascination to the 
scene. And when nature did start into abrupter eminences, 
its savage features were always masked in the russet and 
gold of flowering broom piled up in undisturbed luxuriance. 
The hedges on each side the road looked, as we flew along, 
like two green coursers, of goblin shape, racing furiously 
with each other ; and the daisies and batchelor-buttons in 
the fields beyond seemed to our swimming eyes to grow into 
many-tinted ribbons forcibly blown from the mouth of some 
modern magician. But, in the distance, the scene was a 
floating sea of loveliness. What a stately mansion is that ! 
looking out from its shady clump of fine old oaks. See that 
merry little rivulet, skipping along its pebbly bed, with its 
narrow banks thickly lined with old willows, which have 
been so hewed and hacked for their pliant shoots, that their 
gnarled and knotted trunks resemble the venerable olives in 
the garden of Gethsemane. The ditch of that sunk fence is 



RURAL SCENERY. YY 

arbored o'er with blossoming briers and wild creepers. 
The hedge is no longer a close-built wall of verdure, but it 
is broken into sweet irregularities by the masses of wild 
plum and hawthorn in bloom — their snowy flowers beauti- 
fully contrasting with the dark, brilliant green of the hedge ; 
and there is a noble old castle, with its Grothic battlements 
and swelling towers, seemingly based upon a huge mound of 
leaves, so thickly wooded are the sides of the hill on which 
it stands. What a pity that all this beauty is created by 
the aristocracy, even as the pearl hidden in the shell of the ^ 
oyster is the result of disease. 

In contrast with these princely mansions we roll glibly 
by a modest cottage, with its gable-end hung with a dark 
mantle of ivy, and its door half-curtained with clambering 
roses and honey-suckles. On its window-sills are ranged 
modest pots of heliotrope, and mignonette, breathing their 
sweet odors upon the happy inmates of the lowly cot. In 
the little yard of grassplots and flowers a stately cock con- 
voys his numerous hens, which are busily scratching and 
pecking for worms, regardless of his proff"ered gallantries. 
Chanticleer glories in his charge, and loudly crows as he 
flaps his burnished wings of gold. But courageous as he 
seems, he lowers his proud crest and utters his cackling note 
of alarm as we whiz swiftly by. In the stable-yard stands 
an old white horse, freckled with age, munching his oats be- 
side a rough Shetland pony. Snugly reposing under the 
shed was the red milch cow, chewing the cud as she dozed 
unmindful of our momentary presence. A large peacock, 
with the gorgeous glories of his tail spread to their utmost, 
strutted stiffly along in solitary grandeur, the gaudy monarch 
of birds. On the roof-shaped hay-rick, a whole flock of 
pigeons were dozing in a line, with their heads tucked com- 
fortably under their wings, and the noisy Guinea fowls 
shrieked wildly below. What a snug picture of home com- 



^8 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

forts to excite all the enthusiasm of romantic young advo- 
cates of " love in a village !" It only required Cupid peep- 
ing out of the kitchen window in a white apron, with a nap- 
kin tucked about his neck, and a piece of dough in his hand, 
to complete this ideal paradise of dumplings and devotion. 
More sweet fields and sweeter hedges. A solitary horse, 
carelessly nipping the short juicy grass, looks up as we smoke 
and puff towards him — gazes for an instant with bowed neck 
and raised tail, and then snorting loudly, bounds off, his 
head half-turned in proud defiance as he gallops slowly 
away. On a bare eminence a lonely windmill twirls its 
gigantic arms in creaking agony. How distinctly we can 
trace the course of that stream through these delicious mea- 
dows by the clustering trees that grow along its margin, and 
hang so tenderly over it with their long drooping boughs, as 
entirely to conceal the water from the light ; and then when 
it does gleam forth for an instant from its leafy covert into 
sunshine, it flashes like some rich vein of quicksilver issuing 
from its rugged native mine. A frightened hare, startled 
from her grassy form by our steaming uproar, bounds forth, 
and with her long ears resting upon her back fleetly scours 
the plain. 

And soon there came on a mist. It was no fog, — no driz- 
zle ; but thin, shadowy and almost impalpable, it floated 
between us and the beauteous landscape, lending a softened, 
but intenser interest to the scene. And then it commenced 
to rain. At first it was only a few big drops, that rattled 
through the leaves, and pelted the tops of the cars. And 
then it poured in right good earnest, beating down the agi- 
tated foliage of the waving boughs, and rudely pattering 
upon the glassy surface of the placid stream. The cattle 
sought shelter under the nearest trees, the horses drooped, 
and the sheep huddled close together, with their noses stuck 
close to the ground to avoid the raging storm. The whole 



\ 



RURAL SCENERY. Y9 

scene becoming very dismal, and very English, I put up the 
window and soon fell asleep, to dream of the wild forests on 
the banks of the Mississippi. The whistle startled me, and 
I looked out upon that huge tinkery of iron pots — hammering 
Birmingham — where all the world come to buy their soup- 
ladles. The scattering forest of gaunt, spectral furnace- 
chimneys, that. Babel-like, kissed the clouds, were all puf- 
fing furiously away, as if each one was bent on doing its best 
to smoke the gloomy piles of dingy houses as black as smoke 
could make them. Here we had ten minutes for ennui and 
refreshments. People stretched their legs, and some took 
sandwiches, and others a glass of porter, and after the ten 
minutes had appeared half an hour, compared with the ex- 
citement of the former portion of the journey, the whistle 
sounded, and off we rattled once more. 

The sun came out from shelter, and with him the cows. 
The horses once more took to grazing, and gradually the 
sheep scattered over the fields, and the frolicksome lambs 
frisked round them as if in playful derision of their damp, 
clos<?-'^lieared skins. What a pity that these woolly inno- 
cents should ever go up to Smithfield, to be made mutton of. 
The sun shone, or rather did its best to shine brightly, but 
it was not that fierce, glaring sunshine that appears eager to 
drink up at once all the moisture that the pitying heavens 
had shed upon the earth beneath. There was nothing daz- 
zling, nothing parching about it. It was the mellowed, 
luxurious light of a shaded lamp — a fit illumination for en- 
chanted bowers and submarine grots ; it was just the sort , 
of light, in fact, that a fairy or a mermaid would have 
revelled in, or a romantic traveller would have chosen to see 
the softly beautiful scenery of England by. The tender 
crops were still, as if hushed into speechless happiness by the 
refreshing shower. And every thing looked up and smiled, 
except the poor beans, which drooped their heavily wreathed 



80 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

beads, weighed down by the glittering moisture. The blithe 
lark soars high above us, singing as he dries his fluttering 
wings in the stray sunbeams. And here and there a drip- 
ping sparrow hops merrily forth from his protecting hedge, 
chirping as gayly as if it had never been known to rain in 
England. All things seemed softer, sweeter, and fresher 
than before. We rush swiftly by a flourishing field of hops, 
the creeping plants stuck with straight, branchless hoop- 
poles, fiercely bristling in their formal rows, like the hundred 
thousand bayonets of the Champ cle Mars on review day. 
We plunge into another tunnel. Amidst the weighty dark- 
ness, and the sulphureous smell from the furnace, — the stun- 
ning roar of the wheels, and the terrific yells of the locomo- 
tive whistle, — one might imagine himself in the depths of a 
certain brimstone pit, with a whole squadron of devil's imps 
careering madly through it. 

" I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat." 
So said I to myself of my English fellow-passengers, who 
had already discovered ways of rendering themselve^disa- 
greeable before arriving at that ancient city. Bui unfor- 
tunately for me, I was not captain, as the fat Knight was, 
and so the whistle sounded and off we all rumbled together, 
furious as so many cats shaken up in a bag. An English- 
man is decidedly a muffin, not only in his puffy appearance, 
but in his quiet endurance of an oven-height temperature. 
He rather enjoys being gently baked, and shuns draughts of 
fresh air as he does beggars. If it were his fortune to take 
a siesta under the equator, he would tenderly insert his head 
in a woollen nightcap, as a proper precaution against the 
possibility of getting cold in the h«ad, of which, after indi- 
gestion, he lives most in dread. In leaving Birmingham, 
we had so changed our direction as to turn their faces to- 
wards the iron horse, and thereby to give them the control 
over the windows which we had previously enjoyed. The 



RURAL SCENERY. 81 

lively lick at wbich we moved created an invigorating breeze. 
An Englishman would have been false to his nature had he 
quietly exposed himself to such a draught ; so each flushed 
gentleman, with determined composure, proceeded to put up 
a window, and put on his nightcap, and after wrapping him- 
self up in his India-rubber overcoat, he snugly composed 
himself to sleep. Stifling hot became the car ; our con- 
densed breath ran down the glass in streams, and yet they 
snoozed on, toasting as comfortably as fellow-muffins, waiting 
their turn to go into breakfast. Through the combined as- 
sistance of his odoriferous overcoat and the sweltering heat, 
each dozing Englishman soon succeeded in making a scent- 
bag of himself, which, if crows had noses, would prove invalu- 
able in a corn-field afflicted with those destructive birds. 
Was it not suffocating 1 provoking ? And then to hear 
them snore too ! It was positively frightful. What social 
punishment could be deemed too severe to be inflicted on 
any civilized Christian, who would get into a confined atmos- 
phere in an India-rubber coat? 

We dash through more fields and hedges ; and there, 
half-hidden in the deepest shadow, is the picturesque porter's 
lodge, opening upon the long broad avenue of drooping ehns, 
which leads to some aristocratic dwelling. These venerable 
elms may be considered the living sign-posts to aristocracy ; 
and really if this aristocracy in its action on men resembled 
its influence on nature, it would be an uncommonly pretty 
thing to look at. I have since this railroad trip often trotted 
in a dog-cart along the shady lanes and retired roads of Eng- 
land, pausing by the way to wonder at and admire the exceed- 
ing loveliness of many a mansion of aristocracy. A man 
must see in order to appreciate these secluded hiding-places 
of wealth. The taste, the care and ingenuity displayed in 
the style of architecture of the houses, and in the keeping 
of the grounds and parks, surpasses the most exaggerated 



82 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

fancies of an imaginative mind. But, alas ! the careful 
culture of trees and cattle, as ministers to its luxury, mono- 
polizes all the attention of the aristocracy, whilst thousands 
of operatives in mines and manufactories, and paupers in 
cities, are left to starve in ignorance and vice. Trees are 
pruned, watered and manured, and the unceasing care of 
countless laborers is devoted to them. The sleek horses and 
bullocks are considerately blanketed ; due regard is had to 
the air, light and cleanliness of their stables, and every at- 
tention is paid to the quantity and quality of their food. 
But millions of human beings are left by their noble land- 
lords to rot in those dens of " graduated starvation " — the 
workhouses, — or else to eke out an existence of protracted 
wretchedness in stifling coalpits, and suffocating factories, or 
to die unheard of in the cheerless garrets , and loathsome 
cellars of the large cities of the kingdom. The horses and 
bullocks the aristocracy intend to ride and eat, and they 
are, for that reason, no scanty recipients of affectionate 
attentions. But the other class, God having seen fit to for- 
bid by their peculiar conformation, their being subjected to 
either one of the above-mentioned uses, can hope for no 
place in the sympathies of their more fortunate fellow-men. 
The aristocracy then being unable either to ride or to eat 
them, innocently wonder what on earth they were made for, 
and so leave them to starve or be miraculously fed by the 
ravens as may happen. When it is remembered that in the 
park alone of Chatsworth there are 1600 acres, and that all 
the four hundred titles, and a vast number of ambitious 
commoners, own one or more seats with extensive parks 
attached ; some idea may be formed of the immense tracts 
of the finest land kept idle to bolster up the proud suprem- 
acy of these wealthy sluggards, which, if brought into culti- 
vation, would assist in feeding the starving millions of 
London and the mining and manufacturing districts. 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 83 



CHAPTER Y. 

ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 

A FEW meek, submissive, anglicized Americans are nerv- 
ously anxious to convince England, and America, that 
the deepest, most abiding affection subsists between them. 
They most assiduously labor to prove by facts, and figures, 
that certain prejudiced travellers, and narrow-minded jour- 
nalists, do but waste ink in their efforts to disturb the har- 
mony of two nations, allied in origin, and bound by common 
ties. They blandly assure England, that America still 
bases her national pride upon the triumphs of " the mother 
country." They confidently assert, that the American 
people, proud of their English descent, still insist upon shar- 
ing with Great Britain the glories of their common ances- 
tors. They cajole Americans with the soft assurance, that 
England regards their progress with that sort of interest 
which the parental heart can only feel ; they protest that 
she is proud of her offspring ; and that she glories in their 
success at home and abroad, as new evidence of the invinci- 
bility of the Anglo-Saxon race. They hope, by judiciously 
tickling the vanity of Johnny Bull, to restrain him from the 
commission of excesses, to which even Americans would fail 
to submit. And by dinging into our ears the familiar whine 
of " the mother country," " our common ancestors," and the 
glory of being descended from a people " who can claim 
Shakspeare and Milton as countrymen. '' they hope to recon- 



84 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

cile Americans to tlie degradation of a tutelage whicli must 
prove a stain on our national character. They would fain 
convince us that we must be servile, in order to be proud ; 
they insult our understanding, by attempting to convince 
us, that we could maintain our honor at the sacrifice of our 
independence. 

According to the convenient doctrine of these complying 
sycophants, gratitude for the honor conferred on us by our 
English relationship, should make us forgive any offence, 
and submit to any imposition England may be pleased to 
inflict. We are considerately warned of the danger of 
offending our parent ; her insults must be treated as badi- 
nage ; her hostility deemed alia joke. If we should resent 
her outrages, she may declare us to be no longer her heirs ; 
if we excite her ire, she might cut us off, from the rich 
inheritance of her glory. Though her good will could prove 
valuable, and America could learn to humbly sue for her 
favors, ought our interest to make us forget that forgiveness 
may cease to be magnanimous, and that forbearance may, 
after a while, sink into pusillanimity ? But " to crook the 
pregnant hinges of the knee, when thrift may follow fawning," 
is something that America has yet to learn. On our own 
strength, and not on England's favor, we rely for success. 
We renounce all claim to England's glory, by succession. 
We scorn to be honored as the reputed descendants even 
of Great Britain. As American citizens we present to the 
world our claims to respect ; as American citizens we are 
ready to maintain them. That solitary relic of England's 
absurdities, that honor could be derived from ancestors, has 
never been received with favor in our land. Our theory and 
our practice have ever been, that " true nobility looks to 
the future, not to the past." If we wear any of Eng- 
land's laurels, we have won them, not borrowed them. And 
if we are proud of being Americans, it is not because we 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 85 

may as descendants of Englishmen share their national pride, 
but because as foemen, in equal fight, we have humbled it. 
'Tis most true that Britain's triumphs are our glory. But 
we have appropriated, as she gained them, on the ocean and 
in the field. 

It is our interest, as it has ever been our pleasure, to do 
justice to England's greatness. In acknowledging her reputa- 
tion we establish our own. Prowess in the vanquished is 
the proudest tribute to the victor. She has hitherto been 
supreme ; but her ambition overleaps itself ; her pre-eminence 
is likely to prove her ruin. She so long stood alone among 
nations, that she can but ill brook the presence of a rival, 
more especially when that rival appears in a nation whom 
she has struggled to think of with scorn and treat with de- 
rision. In order to convince the world and themselves of 
the sincerity of their disdain. Englishmen have resorted to 
the vilest slander and abuse. They indulge their native 
malevolence in every species of injustice, in every form of 
attack. There is no crime too flagrant, no outrage too 
glaring, for Americans to be accused of But their own 
fury blinds them. They forget that malignity cannot be 
mistaken for indifi"erence ; that rancor can never be con- 
strued into contempt. The bitter pleasure they derive from 
assailing America, shows that they fear as well as hate her. 
The very pains they take to convince the world that we are 
unworthy of all consideration, proves of how much more im- 
portance we are in their eyes than they would have it sup- 
posed. Such intense hatred lives not without a cause ; in- 
difference on any subject produces silence ; and if we were 
so despicable as they pretend to believe, we should much 
less frequently be the theme of their invective. But it is 
the privilege of helpless malice to rail, and England too well 
deserves the right not to be allowed to enjoy it. If, in 
abusing us, she finds relief from the choking accumulation 



86 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of her spleen, I can say from my heart let her rail on. Her 
satire has hitherto proved more harmless, if possible, to 
America than her arms. Her assaults, of both kinds, have 
always redounded as much to our honor as her own confu- 
sion. But I would have her spite ascribed to its real mo- 
tive ; I should like to see her attacks received in the proper 
spirit. What could be more humiliating than to behold 
her " lily-livered " partisans, whilst wincing under her 
savage calumnies, vainly attempting a grinning approval of 
their wit ? What could be more disgusting than to observe 
those Anglicised Americans, whilst cowering beneath the 
fierceness of her rebuke, meanly acknowledging the justice 
of it ? I would not have my countrymen forget the fact, 
that her malice arises from envy, and that jealousy sustains 
her bitterness. I would have them amused by what is 
worthy of being laughed at, at the same time that I would 
have them despise the vituperation, which has nothing but 
its Billingsgate coarseness to distinguish it. I can always 
laugh at a really good thing, even when perpetrated at my 
own expense ; I could enjoy even English sarcasm could it 
ever fail to sink into scurrility. 

It would be cruel to restrain England in her propensity 
to vilify us, when she displays such remarkable fluency in 
a slanderous style of speech. When the ability to calum- 
niate is the only power which has survived the gradual en- 
croachment of bowels upon intellect in Great Britain, it 
would be a pity to rob the English even of this miserable 
evidence of mind. When vituperation is the solitary ap- 
proach they are capable of making to any quality which 
belongs to eloquence, it would be excessive enmity not to 
leave them to its indulgence. I should be as reluctant to 
deprive them of the free exercise of their undoubted talent 
for abuse, as I would be to curry favor with them by sub- 
mlsslan. But T should like to reserve the privilege of 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 87 

receiving and replying to their invectives, without regarding 
the flunky dictation of some few Americans, who have shown 
themselves unworthy of the name. I have no desire to cur- 
tail, in the least degree, the ample range of England's vile 
imagination ; but I do not relish being insulted, by being 
told that she basely slanders because she tenderly loves us. 

Mutual enmity is the only feeling which can ever be * 
maintained with sincerity between the two nations ; and 
there is something much more attractive, to me, in the frank- 
ness of declared hostility, than the empty professions of a 
truce which neither pretends to respect. We must be foes ; 
but let us be courteous foes. All that we demand of Eng- 
lishmen is, that there shall be "a fair fight" and "no hitting 
under the belt." We expect no gentle consideration for our 
inexperience on their part ; but, on entering " the ring," we 
defy them to do their worst. We have nothing to fear in 
this contest. A brave foe, though vanquished, commands 
the admiration of his adversary. 'Tis true America is young, 
and not much skilled in " the science of fistiana ; " but though 
we may be conquered after some " hard fought rounds," yet 
we will much more certainly secure England's respect than 
we could purchase her forbearance by " going down" without 
a single blow. But if we will " hit out " vigorously, there 
is no certainty that the issue of the battle will be against 
us. Englishmen, though strong, and much practised in the 
cunning tricks of " the ring," present so many assailable 
points, that our victory is certain if our determination prove 
valiant. Let them thoroughly understand " the articles of 
the fight ; " that the contest may hereafter be conducted with 
the punctilious propriety of " an affair of honor," not the 
low indecency of a brothel brawl. 

We are assured that England regards us with a most 
parental affection ; we are informed that she is proud of 
her offspring. She has, indeed, been most touchingly atfec- 



88 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

tionate. From the 13th May, 1607, to the 20th December, 
1852, her solicitous attentions have been unceasing. From 
the time of Captain Christopher Newport's landing his fleet 
of three ships, with the 105 settlers of Jamestown, to the 
date of our present glorious Republic of thirty-one States, 
the marks of her sincere regard have been too unmistakable 
for even " the most prejudiced and narrow-minded of Ameri- 
cans " to deny them. Her devotion has truly been very 
extraordinary. Nature affords but a single parallel of her 
maternal affection. She gloats over us with that sort of 
appetizing tenderness, which might be supposed to have ani- 
mated a sow "that hath eaten her nine farrow." We are 
probably indebted to our strength and numbers for not 
having been subjected to the same practical illustration of 
her extreme devotion enjoyed by the pigs. , Twenty millions 
of hardy freemen would prove a troublesome meal, even for 
ogreish England. 

But England regards our progress with parental exulta- 
tion. That she does watch our advancing strides with the 
deepest interest, I am most ready to admit. But hers is a 
keener anxiety than ever animates even a parent's breast. 
It is the feverish, all-absorbing interest of an apprehensive 
rival, whose soul is racked by mingled hate and fear. If 
she pretends to glory in our success, as her kindred of the 
Anglo-Saxon race, she has been rather too tardy in discover- 
ing the tie of relationship, to make its acknowledgment at 
all flattering now. The truth is, that even her purblind 
jealousy at last permits her to feel that some honor might 
arise from claiming us as of her own family, and she has 
become wondrously proud of a connection that she has been 
something less than a hundred years in finding out. Id 
defiance of her persecutions, wars, and slanders, we have 
assumed such a position, that even she might derive conse 
quence from patronizing us. But she strangely mistakej 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA 89 

our relations, when she supposes that the American people 
would submit to being treated as inferiors. Having shown 
ourselves her equals in peace, and her superiors in war, we 
must respectfully decline her patronage, as we have steadily 
defied her malice. The hope that she could flatter us into 
bolstering up her tottering empire is eminently worthy of 
her selfishness, but does not reflect much credit on her judg- 
ment. She gave us no assistance in our rise ; she must ex- 
pect none from us in her decline. She must not hope — she 
must not hope, by playfully claiming us as her " American 
kinsfolk," that the reflection of our rising glory will illu- 
mine her waning power. We disclaim all sympathy with 
people who can only remember that they are related to us, 
when it becomes their interest to do so. We should have 
despised them less had they continued to assail us as ene- 
mies, instead of making pusillanimous professions of friend- 
ship it is impossible for them to feel. The favors we have 
received from England will not be troublesome to return. 
We may be as slow to extend as we have been to receive 
friendly greetings. 

But then we have "common ancestors." We spring 
from the same origin, and speak the same language, 'tis 
true. But all this only serves to widen the gulf between 
us. Common enmity is mild compared with the hatred 
which springs from friendship outraged and confidence 
abused. Neglected duties and broken ties do but increase 
the bitterness of those who have once been united. Like 
objects negatively electrified, England and America fly farther 
asunder, from having so closely adhered. The laws govern- 
ing our sympathies are as unchangeable as those of elec- 
tricity, and we now mutually repel, because we once mu- 
tually attracted each other. Position, the times, and fate 
unite in making us rivals. It is impossible that we could 
ever be otherwise whilst England continues powerful, or 



90 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

America free. The two greatest nations on earth — the 
occupants of different hemispheres, and the representatives 
of antagonistic principles of government, necessity would 
make us rivals in spite of the sincerest inclination to be 
friends. It is but natural that England should feel most 
acutely this feeling of jealousy. The weaker rival ever 
nurses the bitterest hate. And England cannot escape 
from the consciousness that her strength must wane as ours 
grows, though she may attempt to deceive others by her 
boasts and sneers. She already bears about her the evi- 
dences of o'er-ripe maturity, whilst every year must develope 
some new power in America. Decay must soon begin in 
England, and time, which will prove her ruin, will be our 
friend. Her successful rivals, we have not time to pause 
in our career to wonder if England cheers our progress. 
We are not anxious, because we have nothing to fear. We 
are less bitter, because we feel secure. Our advance is too 
rapid to give us time to watch England. We hate her with 
much less intensity than she has honored us with, because 
we feel no apprehension of her power. As she cannot ob- 
struct our path, we naturally forget her presence. But we 
must be eternally in her thoughts, because we are gradually 
eclipsing her greatness. The spectre of some dreaded ob- 
ject haunts the apprehensive mind with much more con- 
stancy, than the loved one's image lives in a devoted heart. 
England's distrust commenced at our birth, and has in- 
creased with our strength. The apprehension with which 
she regarded us, seemed almost instinctive. Whilst we 
were as yet a sickly settlement, feebly contending in the wil- 
derness against savages and famine, she seemed oppressed 
by the consciousness that there was danger to her in our suc- 
cess. With unnatural barbarity she turned from us, with 
the vain hope that we must perish amidst the privations of 
the desolate spot, in which our lot was cast. But the God 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 91 



of nations, who sent ravens to feed Elijah in the desert, 
succored us. And from a handful of men, whose hopes 
of existence were reduced to a few grains of corn, we have 
been raided up into a powerful protector to the rest of the 
world against the encroachments of the English system. 
England's deadly enmity, originally shown in neglect, was af- 
! terwards manifested in a series of persecutions, which final- 
I ly drove us into open resistance. In her attempt to coerce 
! us by arms she lost her colonies, and we gained our indepen- 
dence. Her hatred, increased by the bitter mortification of 
defeat, was not long in again bursting into unrestrained fury. 
She resolved to cripple our growing commerce by exercising 
the arrogated right of search. Once more she struggled 
to annihilate our power in war. Her baffled hate received 
another terrible rebuke, and our brilliant success by sea and 
land, which added a long list to our heroic names of the Re- 
volution, first taught her to fear as much as she hated Amer- 
ica. She no longer dared assail us openly, and her national 
rivalry sunk into personal spite. Destitute of the power to 
injure us as a nation, she condescended to assail individual 
peculiarities, and by the ridicule of our manners by her 
tourists, and attacks on our social and political institutions, 
by her periodicals and daily press, she hoped to accomplish 
by cavilling at us, what she had failed to do by her arms. 
Her jealous disposition has been evident to all those familiar 
with the newspaper literature of the country ; but it is 
so happily displayed in the following petty attack from 
the London Times on the American contributions to the 
world's fair, that I cannot resist the temptation to quote it. 
It is a fair specimen of the tone of the London press gene- 
rally : — 

If the Americans do excite a smile, it is hf their pretensions. 
Whenever they come oiit of their own province of rugged utihty, and 
enter into competition with European elegance, they certainly do make 



92 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

themselves ridiculous. Their furniture is grotesque; their carriages 
and harness are gingerbread ; their carpets are tawdry ; their j^atch- 
work qnilts surpass even the invariable ugliness of this fabric ; their 
cut glass is clumsy ; their pianos sound of nothing but iron and wood ; 
their bookbinding is that of a journeyman working on his own account 
in an English market town ; their daguerreotypes are the sternest and 
gloomiest of all daguerreotypes ; their printed calicoes are such as our 
housemaids would not think it respectable to wear. Even their inge- 
nuity, great as it is, becomes ridiculous when it attempts competition 
with Europe. Double pianos, a combination of a piano and a violin, a 
chair with a cigar-case in its back, and other mongrel constructions, 
belong to a people that would be centaurs and mermen if they could, 
and are always rebelling against the trammels of unity. 

The displays of her mean disposition to detract from our 
merits are not confined to the absurd scurrility of her news- 
papers or the stale slanders of her books. In her bluster- 
ing course with regard to the McLeod difficulty, the North- 
western boundary, and the recent fishery question, her ma- 
levolence almost got the better of her prudence ; she plainly 
showed that she still possessed the will, though destitute of 
the courage to attack us. England should be careful of 
these outbursts of fury. She should remember, that, like 
the bee, which in leaving its envenomed sting with its foe, 
sickens and dies, the enraged rival may become the victim 
of his own wiles. The means to which Great Britain re- 
sorts to overthrow America, may prove her own ruin. 

It is true that a cowardly policy during the uncertainty 
of the late dispute about the Newfoundland fisheries, dictat- 
ed a great change of tone in the press of England since the 
period when its head, the London Times^ denounced Ame- 
rica as a Republic of scoundrels, with a few honest men in- 
termixed. But their unconquerable aversion to America 
embitters the soothing cup of flattery they commend to our 
lips ; and they lose the advantage of their attempt to con- 
ciliate, by allowing their miserable jealousy to shine through 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 93 

their labored efforts at praise. The Times^ about the period 
when many thought the two countries might be involved in 
war, contained this somewhat remarkable article, in which 
it lauds our power and progress, but insinuates that we are 
pirates and villains, who, regarding the laws neither of God 
nor man, are yet destitute of the courage to avenge the mur- 
der of our citizens, which resulted from our unscrupulous 
ambition. It is useless to comment on the subtle injustice 
of the article. It speaks for itself : 

THE LEAP OF THE UNITED STATES TO THE FIRST RANK OP 

NATIONS — THE CONQUEST OF CUBA. 

[From the London Times of September 6, 1852.] 

It has ever been the delight of historians and philosophers to trace 
and work out an analogy between the peculiarities of climate and 
scenery, and the character and disposition of nations. There is some- 
thing singularly wild and extreme in the physical phenomena of the 
American continent. The mountains literally pierce the clouds, and 
pour down from their snow-capped summits rivers that sweep their 
uncontrollable course for thousands of miles, and bear with them, as 
trophies of their might, trees of a girth and growth unknown to the 
European observer. The seasons are as strongly marked. A summer of 
raging and almost intolerable heat is succeeded by a winter of little less 
than Ai-ctic severity. All things there tend to represent the course of 
nature as the result of a series of violent and uncontrollable impulses, 
and to conceal those silent and unvarying laws which regulate alike 
the fall of a drop of rain and the com-se of the mighty Father of 
Waters. 

There never probably was, since the beginning of the world, an 
instance of such solid, sudden, and dazzling prosperity as has been 
achieved within the last fifty years by the United States of America. 
By peaceful industry and bold but well-weighed enterprise, they have 
advanced to a degree of material well-being which, to those who only 
know the world from books, must appear almost incredible. They 
have but to persevere in the same course, and there is no limit to the 
triumphs that lie before them. They have still a boundless territory 
to occupy and improve, in the possession of which they are without a 



94 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

neighbor, and a mission of civilization and consolidation to execute as 
noble as ever devolved upon the sons of men. But the previous tri- 
umphs of their industry and their enterprise have been so rapid aiid 
portentous that they v^^ould seem to have a tendency to turn aside the 
nation from its steady onward course, and to enlist it in more brilliant 
but far less certain schemes of aggrandizement. A nation of hard- 
headed traders and speculators, struggling day by day with praise- 
worthy perseverance and intensity for the possession of the " almighty 
dollar," this people, so shrewd and calculating in its private transac- 
tions, becomes, when it touches on public affairs, wild and extravagant, 
boundless in its aspirations and insatiable in its cupidity. It possesses 
a will as uncontrollable as the powers of nature which surround it, 
and spurns the control of law to which these mighty agencies so humbly 
submit themselves. 

There are at present two courses of policy open to the United 
States — the policy of commerce and the policy of conquest. It is open 
to them to throw down commercial restrictions, to stimulate the spirit 
of traffic, to give up aspirations of military glory, and found a power 
like that of their mother country, relying rather on arts than arms ; or 
they may substitute the military for the commercial spirit, seek to 
establish within themselves a world of their own, and to enlarge a ter- 
ritory already too vast for unity, by the forcible annexation of lands too 
weak to resist the onset of the mighty confederation, Never had a 
people good or evil set so fairly befol-e them, and never was the choice 
more doubtful or momentous. 

It is now just a year since the piratical expedition to Cuba, resulting 
in the sanguinary execution of fifty American citizens and the ignomi- 
nious death of the " unprincipled adventurer " by whom the descent 
was planned. We had hoped that this severe lesson — a single reverse 
amid so much prosperity and progress — would have taught the United 
States the folly and wickedness of such unwarrantable enterprises, and 
finally decided the balance in favor of the policy of justice and mode- 
ration. There is much reason to fear we are mistaken. A sort of 
" guild " or " order " has been formed in the South, consisting, we sup- 
pose we must say, not of unprincipled adventurers, but of many of the 
most " worthy and influential merchants, lawyers and politicians of the 
country," The object is the extension of American influence over the 
Western hemisphei-e and the islands of the Atlantic and Pacific. The 
first booty on which they have cast their eyes is Cuba, and from that 
island they propese to sweep away every vestige of Spanish authority 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 95 

before two suns have risen and set on tlie invaders, "Enlightened 
public opinion in the United States," it is said, will sanction this mea- 
sui'e,. seeing that there are many reasons why Americans require the pos- 
session of the island. In the first place, they wish to substitute for the 
ii'on rule of Spain, the republican system of government ; next, they 
anticipate assistance from the discontented Creoles — a fallacious hope, if 
we may judge by the experience of Lopez. Thirdly, they see in the 
acquisition of this island a guarantee for the permanency of the institu- 
tion of slavery. Fourthly, such a conquest would extend their com- 
merce. Fifthly, the rich and luxurious covet this gem of the Antilles, 
as an agreeable and accessible retreat from the severities of a New- 
York winter, and long to exchange the frozen breezes of the North for 
enchanting visions of orange trees and sherry cobblers. The sum and 
substance of all these reasons is that, without pretending a shadow of 
right to this possession of the crown of Spain, the Americans desire it, 
and therefore will have it. Whatever the Americans can take belongs 
to them, according to this new school of ethics ; and come peace or 
come war, they will not permit the intervention of any European 
power between them and any friendly ally whom they are determined 
to plunder. 

It is no little question that is raised by these avowed intentions — 
nothing less than whether one of the first-rate powers of the world 
shall declare itself exempt from the provisions of the law of nations — 
shall deny the existence of any right except that of the stronger, and 
claim to set no bounds to its aggressions, except the limits assigned by 
its boundless cupidity and lust of dominion. Shall there arise in the 
middle of the nineteenth centiuy, a piratical State, bound by no laws, 
recognizing no rights, and avowedly basing its policy on principles 
which in the case of individuals this very same society would visit 
with the penitentiary or the gibbet ? There was a time when, intoxi- 
cated like the United States with its enormous prosperity, ancient 
Athens laid down for itself the same rule of conduct, and boldly pro- 
fessed that while justice might regulate claims between equals, the 
stronger had a right to impose every thing to which the weaker might 
be compelled to submit. After a few years the vicissitudes of events 
placed this arrogant State in the very position it had described, and 
rendered it dependent on the contemptuous clemency of a conqueror 
ifor that very existence to which, upon its own principles, it had lost all 
right when it became unable to defend it. Suppose we were to apply 
a similar reason to the island of Madeira. Nothing would be easier 



96 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

than to take it from the feeble power to whom it belongs. It is not 
too well governed by the Portugxiese, it is a commanding commercial 
position, and its climate is regarded as a specific for the national disease 
of consumption. We have, therefore, many reasons to desire it. Why, 
then, do we not make it our own? For two reasons, which our 
American friends will do well to consider. We will not violate the 
principles of eternal justice, tarnish the lustre of our arms, and disgrace 
our character for fairness and moderation, by wresting his property from 
our ally because he is finable to keep it And if we wish to do this we 
dare not. We dread the retribution which follows on such acts, and 
have learnt that, sooner or later, the force of public opinion will put 
down any power which claims to emancipate itaelf from the control of 
conscience and the practice of justice. We commend these considera- 
tions in no unfriendly spirit to our friends across the Atlantic, and 
trust that they will see, on calmer reflection, that in this case, as in all 
others, their duty is identical with their interest, and that enlightened 
public opinion in the States, instead of supporting •" worthy and influ- 
ential " men who form themselves into secret societies for the purposes 
of piracy and buccaneering, will declare that such objects are unwor- 
thy, and that their promoters ought not to be influential. 

But the ingenious gentlemen, alluded to in the com- 
mencement of this chapter, insist that the people of England 
are devotedly attached to us, and pretend that the ribald 
assaults so frequently made upon us through all the literary 
channels of the country, are but the unheeded ravings of 
rabid editors, and the frothy emanations of tourists' brains. 
This absurd declaration requires no refutation among those 
who have been in England, who have encountered Eng- 
lishmen in travelling in the older continents, or who have 
been much associated with them in our own ; but those who 
have been so fortunate as entirely to escape the annoyance 
of intercourse with them, need require no better evidence 
of their hostility, than the tone of their books and news- 
papers. The peculiar opinions of any people may be best 
judged of by the style of the books written for their amuse- 
ment. It is the labor of every author so to adapt his style 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. Q'J 

and sentiments to the tastes of his readers, as most probably 
to secure their approbation. Whether he writes for fame 
or money, selfishness prompts him to pursue this course ; and 
the opinions he advances will inevitably be colored by the 
prejudices of the community in which he lives. The con- 
sciousness that his success is so wholly dependent on their ap- 
approval will make him, without his being aware of it, adapt 
his ideas to theirs, even whilst he imagines himself a bold 
and independent writer. No book was ever yet written without 
an expectation on the part of the author of its finding readers. 
'Tis ridiculous to suppose that any man would submit to the 
labor of book-making merely for the fun of composition. 
The preface to a mediocre volume often declares the con- 
sciousness of the author, that the tenets of his work must pre- 
vent its ever being read. But the pains he takes to make 
the announcement shows its absurdity. The preface which 
contains the modest declaration betrays its insincerity. He 
may pretend that he has resorted to writing to while away 
leisure hours, or to alleviate mental suffering ; and I can 
very readily conceive of his wishing his lucubrations printed 
for his own convenience, as a permanent record of his feel- 
ings at the time. But surely the preface is altogether su- 
perfluous, unless he hopes that other eyes than his own will 
peruse his thoughts. And the man who unblushingly de- 
clares in one of those necessary attachments prefixed to every 
printed volume, that he has written a book which he believes 
nobody will read, convicts himself of something very like 
lying. 

Even authors, purely actuated by the higher impulses of 
ambition, will in spite of themselves study the feelings of 
their probable readers. How preposterous then is it to de- 
clare, that writers in a country like England, where every 
thing is undertaken with the hope of gain, would crowd 
their books with sentiments notoriously unpopular. In 



08 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

England an author's popularity is not estimated by tlie •■ 
number of editions issued, but by the ^^rzce paid for his work : 
by the publisher. He is not so much celebrated for the re- 
putation he has established, as the money he has amassed. 
He writes not for fame but gold. And he endeavors not so 
much to give utterance to sentiments which will give im- 
mortality to his name, as to express opinions which will se- 
cure the most favorable terms from his publishers. Noth- 
ing is better calculated to produce servility, than a base love 
of gold. And so long as Englishmen continue to write for 
money, they will not only studiously avoid shocking the 
prejudices of their countrymen, but will take particular 
pains -to minister to them. Every prejudice is weighed — 
every passion consulted by these mercenary bookwrights, 
in order, by inflaming them, to create a greater demand for 
their works. They would be the last men in the world to 
assail America, if they were not assured that scurrilous abuse 
of that country was the most saleable commodity of their 
trade. 

The press may be justly considered the best thermometer 
for ascertaining the true state of public opinion, on any sub- 
ject, in any country, where even the forms of freedom are ob- 
served. Editors, in addition to many other manifestations 
of talent, evince an extraordinarily quick perception of the 
inclinations of the majority, and generally manage to use 
them to their advantage. It is a well-approved saying even 
in America, where a greater independence of spirit and more 
freedom animates the press than any country in the world, 
that on all questions of taste or national utility, the press 
follows public opinion so closely, as to appear to direct it. 
How much more applicable is this proverb to England, where 
the acceptance of money for advocating any man or meas- 
ure is not deemed a prostitution of the press. In the uni- 
versal scramble for gold which convulses the country, edit- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 99 

ors of periodicals and newspapers are not ashamed openly 
to avow their ministering to the most bigoted prejudices, 
and exciting the worst passions of the people, as a source of 
profit to themselves. That policy is advocated, that gov- 
ernment praised, and those opinions encouraged which it 
is supposed will pay best. And when this most sordid prin- 
ciple animates the social and political system of England, 
Americans must not be surprised that Quarterlies— Month- 
lies, Weeklies and Baylies, should unite in heaping con- 
tumely on America, whilst the morbid tastes of Englishmen 
continue to relish such abuse. As the stereotyped slang, in 
which they habitually assail us, requires but a small invest- 
ment of talent, and yields a very handsome profit, an attack 
on America has become a favorite speculation with the penny- 
a-liner tradesmen of Great Britain. It is a branch of the 
business, in which the vilest scribblers may set up, as a large 
stock in trade is not requisite to make an imposing show. 
The basest tinsel appears gold, and the lowest Billingsgate 
is thought to be gay trimming, when they adorn the doublet 
of slanders, in which these catchpenny speculators in second- 
hand clothes attempt to array America. 

When I can show that both tourists and editors indulge 
in the coarsest invective against America, I think my read- 
ers will agree with me that Englishmen are not quite so ar- 
dent in their affection for America as some of our anglicized 
countrymen would have us suppose. In presenting the fol- 
lowing extracts, I have no expectation of informing my read- 
ers of what they have not for a long time been aware of I 
merely desire to refresh their memories as to the very many 
outrageous things which have been said of us. Both as to 
authors and quotations, I have been influenced by conve- 
nience ; a sufficient number will be given, I hope, to convince 
even those who may not be familiar with the style of Eng- 
lish writers on America, that I have not been unjust in my 



100 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

conclusions with regard to the sentiments of Englishmen 
towards us. 

Mr. Featherstonhaugh has well deserved the honor of 
being placed in the front rank of those I shall mention, by 
the freest indulgence of those euphonic epithets which appear 
most acceptable in the refined circles of England. From 
Washington to New Orleans this highly tasteful gentleman 
has adorned his crowning wreath of slanders with the choicest 
flowers from Billingsgate. The F. R. S. ostentatiously 
tacked to his name, might be very naturally translated by 
the ignorant into First Royal Scavenger, he appears so per- 
fectly at home in the handling of filth. But though he has 
so copiously bespattered us with his foul language, I am cer- 
tain he has caused us no greater uneasiness than the annoy- 
ance we should feel in being defiled by any other dirt-cart 
which happened to pass. But the distinguished gentleman 
and scholar shall speak for himself. His opening sentence 
is worthy of the author and his book. 

Any one who has endured for many days the filth and discomfort 
of that caravansary called Gadshy's Hotel at Washington, the city of 
"magnificent distances," will feel exceedingly rejoiced when, after a 
short interval of two or three hours, he finds himself transferred by 
the railroad to Barnum's at Baltimore. 

Hear him on the White Sulphur Springs of Virginia : 

Language cannot do justice to the scenes we witnessed, and through 
which we had to pass at the "White Sulphur Springs. It must appear 
incredible to those who have heard so much of the celebrity of this 
watering-place, but who have never been here, to be told that this, 
the most filthy, disorderly place in the United States, v^^ith less method 
and cleanliness about it than belongs to the common jails of the country, 
and where it is quite impossible to be comfortable, should from year to 
year be flocked to by great numbers of polite and well-bred people, 
who have comfortable homes of their own, and who continue to remain 



J 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 101 

amidst all this discomfort, -which, from the nature of things, they kncv?" 
is unchangeable. This requires some explanation. 

As a specimen of the " polite and well-bred people," tlie 
lucky Mr. Featherstonhaugh encountered at the " Springs," 
I beg leave to call the attention of my readers to the fol- 
lowing conversation between three newly arrived gentlemen 
from Virginia, Kentucky and Mississippi. The citizens of 
those States will, of course, recognize the accuracy with which 
the learned author has given their respective dialects as ex- 
isting in " polite and well-bred " circles : 

One of them maintained that in "the hull woorld there was no 
sich bacon as Virginia bacon." Another, who was a Kentuckian, felt 
himself hurt by this observation, and put in an immediate rejoinder ; 
saying, "I allow the Virginians do flog all mankind at praising them- 
selves, and their bacon might be pretty good, but it war'nt to be com- 
pared, no not for a beginning of a thing, to the bacon of the western 
country, where the land was an almighty sight finer, produced better 
corn, and, of course, made better hogs." The Virginian now became 
nettled, and swore they had " more reel luxuries in old Virginia than 
they had in the hull vioorld,'' and asked the Kentuckian if they had 
" oystera in Kentucky, and clams, and sich-like ; " finishing with a 
declaration that the finest land in the " hull woorld " was in South- 
ampton County. These oysters silenced the Kentuckian, who, living 
far in the interior, had never seen any ; but a resident of the State of 
" Jtfassasippi," who could not stand this boast of fine land, put it to 
the Virginian whether they could grow sugar in Southampton County, 
and added that he had " always heer'n that the hawysters of New- 
Orleens had sich a onaccountable fine flavour, that they would knock 
the hawysters of Old Virginny into their ninety-ninth year any day." 
"I reckon they get that from the yellow fever," rejoined the Vh'- 
ginian. 

He gives a truthful and graphic description of the style 
of accommodation prevailing at the Springs : 

The mattress was full of knots, and what was in the thinc' that wa9 



102 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

intended to be my pillow I never ascertained ; but a gentleman in- 
formed me that he and his wife having, after the usual vexatious delays, 
got into some room resembling ours, as soon as they laid down for the 
night, found their pillow not only very disagreeable from a sickening 
odour that came from it, but gifted with some curious hard knobs in 
it that were moveable. As it was out of the question to sleep upon it, 
he threw it on one side, and had the curiosity to examine it in the 
morning, when he discovered that they had not only bountifully put a 
handful or two of dirty live feathers into it, but the necks, with the 
heads to them, of two chickens and a duck. I have not the least doubt 
of the truth of this, for the slaves who attend to such matters have 
entirely their own way, and there is no one to examine their conduct. 

The fossil gatherer is thrown into a helpless state of 
wondering bewilderment by the " grand bolting operation." 
The astonishment is truly incomprehensible which could 
deprive an Englishman of his dinner : 

But who can describe the noise, the confusion incident to a grand 
bolting operation, conducted by three hundred American performers, 
and a hundred and fifty black slaves to help them ? It seemed to me 
that almost every man at table considered himself at job-work against 
time, stuffing sausages and whatever else he could cram into his throat. 
But the dinner-scene presented a spectacle still more extraordinary 
than the breakfast. And, first, as to the cooking, which was after this 
mode. Bacon, venison, beef, and mutton, were all boiled together in 
the same vessel ; then those pieces that were to represent roast meat 
were taken out and put into an oven for awhile ; after which a sort of 
dirty gravy was poured from a huge pitcher indiscriminately upon 
roast and boiled. What with this strange banquet, and the clinking 
of knives and forks, the rattling of plates, the confused running about 
of troops of dirty slaves, the numerous cries for this, that, and the 
other, the exclamations of the new-comers, " Oh, my gracious ! I reckon 
I never did see sich a dirty table-cloth," the nasty appearance of the 
incomprehensible dishes, the badness of the water brought from the 
creek where the clothes were washed, and the universal feculence of 
everything around, the scene was perfectly astounding. Twice I tried 
to dine there, but it was impossible. I could do nothing but stare, and 
before my wonder was over everything was gone, people and all, ex- 



J 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 103 

cept a few slow eaters. I never could become reconciled to the uni- 
versal filth, as some told me they had got to be, and my wife would 
literally have got nothing to eat if I had not given a douceur to the 
cook, and another to one of the black servants, to provide her every 
day a small dish of fried venison or mutton, for which we waited until 
it was placed before her ; this, with very good bread — and it always 
was good — was her only resource. Much squeezed as we were at first, 
there was a sensible relaxation and more elbow-room in a very few 
minutes, in consequence of the great numbers who had the talent of 
bolting their " feed " in five minutes. A gentleman drew my attention 
to one of these quick feeders, who had been timed by himself and 
others, and who had been observed to bolt the most extraordinary 
quantities of angular pieces of bacon, beef, and mutton, in the short 
period of two minutes and a half. This was a strange, meagre, sallow- 
looking man, with black hair and white whiskers and beard, as if his 
jaws Jiad done more work than his brains. All the bolters went at it 
just as quick feeders do in a kennel of hounds, helping themselves to 
a whole dish without ceremony, cutting off immense long morsels, and 
then presenting them with a dexterous turn of the tongue to the anx- 
ious oesophagus, would launch them down by the small end foremost, 
with all the confidence that an alligator swallows a young nigger, into 
that friendly asylum where roast and boiled, baked and stewed, pud- 
ding and pie, all that is good, and too often what is not very good, 
meet for all sorts of noble and ignoble purposes. These quick feeders, 
with scarce an exception, were gaunt, sallow, uncomely-looking per- 
sons, incapable of inspii"ing much interest out of their coffins, always 
excepting, however, the performer with the white whiskers, whose 
unrivalled talent in the present state of the drama, might, perhaps, be 
turned to great account in some of the enlightened capitals of Europe. 

Our friends in St. Louis have reason to feel indebted for 
the subjoined glowing description of their principal hotel: 

At the tavern where I lodged all was dirt, disorder, and want of 
system. A pack of ragged young negroes performed the service of 
chambermaids and waiters, and did it about as well as a pack of grown 
monkeys, caught in the Brazils, would do in three months' teaching. 
The landlord, who to me was always very obliging, seemed to have 
no sort of authority either over his servants or his guests. These prin- 
cipally consisted of those impudent, smoking, spitting shopboys, who 



104 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

are dignified in the United States with the appellation of "clerks." I 
only occasionally dined there ; but it was always the same thing. At 
the ringing of a bell these *' clerks " rushed in crowds to the table, 
just as a pack of hounds or a drove of swine would to their feed. I 
found it most prudent to wait a short time, for in eight minutes they 
had gobbled eveiything up, and had again rushed out to take a glass 
of swipes, a cigar, and go to their "stores.'* One of the intolerable 
evils of pmctical equality is, the obliging clean people to herd with 
dirty ones. The landlord, however, seeing my way of doing things, 
used generally to send me something hot and comfortable to eat at my 
leisure. 

After allowing his mouth to water over the various " good " 
things of the country, which were spoiled however in the 
cooking, the rock-cracker indulges in a passing hit at Ameri- 
can avarice : 

The country, indeed, abounds with what is good, but the majority 
of the people do not seem to care how they live, provided it does not 
interfere with the grand exclusive object of their existence, making 
money. Wherever I go — with the fewest exceptions — this is the all- 
prevailing passion. Tlie word money seems to stand as the represen- 
tative of the word " happiness " of other countries. In other lands 
we see rank, distinction in society, scientific and literary acquirements, 
with the other elevating objects that embellish and dignify human life, 
pursued by great numbers with constancy and ardour ; but here all 
other avenues to advancement, except the golden one, seem nearly un- 
trod — the shortest cut, coute qui coute, to that which leads to ready 
money being the favourite one. Where this sordid passion stifles the 
generous ones, a rapacious selfishness is sure to establish itself; men 
cease to act for the general welfare, and society at length resolves it- 
self into a community, the great object of every individual of which is 
to grasp as much as will last as long as himself. 

His description of the people of New Orleans is brief, 
but complimentary : 

The population partook strongly of the character of the latitude it 
was in, a medley of Spaniards, Brazilians, West Indians, French Creoles, 
and breeds of all these mixed up with the negro stock. I think I never 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 105 

met one person without a cigar in his mouth, and certainly, taking it 
altogether, I never saw such a piratical-looking population before. 
Dark, swarthy, thin, whiskered, smoking, dirty, reckless-looking men; 
and filthy, ragged, screaming negroes and mulattoes, crowded even 
Rue de Chartres, where our lodgings were, and made it a very un- 
pleasant quarter to be in. Notwithstanding it was Sunday, the market 
was open, and there I saw green peas (January 1st), salads, bouquets 
of roses, bananas from Havanna, and various good things that reminded 
me I was in the 30th degree of jS". lat. 

He does not appear, however, to entertain a very exalted 
opinion of the religious principles of the " Crescent City : " 

It is evident that the future population of New Orleans is likely to 
afford a rare specimen of the forms society can be made to take in a 
semi-tropical climate, where the passions act unrestrainedly, and where 
money is the established religion of the country. 

He is singularly mild when he touches on my adopted 
State of Arkansas : 

This territory of Arkansas was on the confines of the United States 
and of Mexico, and, as I had long known, was the occasional residence of 
many timid and nervous persons, against whom the laws of these respec- 
tive countries had a grudge. Gentlemen, who had taken the liberty to 
imitate the signatures of other persons ; bankrupts, who were not dis- 
posed to be plundered by their creditors ; homicides, horsestealers, and 
gamblers, all admired Arkansas on account of the very gentle and 
tolerant state of public opinion which prevailed there in regard to such 
fundamental points as religion, morals and property. Here, flying 
from a stormy world of chicane and trouble, they found repose from 
the terrors it inspired, and looked back upon it somewhat as Dante's 
storm-tossed mariner did upon the devouring ocean. 

Here is another pleasant allusion to " Jonathan and the 
Dollar " : 

Such is the plastic nature of Jonathan, his indomitable affection for 
the almighty dollar, and his enterprise in the pursuit of it, that it is 
far from being impossible that there are lots of his brethren at this time 

5* 



106 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

in the interior of China, with their heads shaved and long pig-tails 
behind them, peddling cuckoo clocks and selling wooden nutmegs, 

T give an agreeable little sketch of the delights of boat- 
travelling in the Southwest. What opinion must we form 
of this scientific traveller when he introduces the name of a 
private gentleman into his vile pages, in connection with 
such epithets as Mr. Rector is coupled with. Persons in 
distant parts of the country will be surprised to learn that 
this blackguard, as described by Mr. Featherstonhaugh, is 
a man of position and intelligence ; I know him personally, 
and his manners and appearance are those of a man of re- 
finement and good breeding. Few citizens are more respected 
among those who know him than this much slandered Mr. 
Rector. How can Mr. Featherstonhaugh expect to be be- 
lieved in other respects when he perpetrates such base 
calumnies, and allows his opinions to be so warped by pre- 
judice : 

Upon embarking on board of this steamer I was certainly pleased 
with the prospect that presented itself of enjoying some repose and 
comfort after the privations and fatigues I had endured ; but never was 
traveller more mistaken in his ^ticipations ! The vexatious conduct 
of the drunken youth had made a serious innovation upon the slight 
degree of personal comfort to be obtained in such a place, but I had 
not the slightest conception that that incident would be entirely thrown 
into the shade by others a thousand times more offensive, and that, 
fi'om the moment of our departure from the post of Arkansas until our 
arrival at New Orleans, I was destined to a series of brutal annoyances 
that extinguished every hope of repose, or a chance of preserving even 
the decencies of existence. 

I had been told at the post of Arkansas that ten passengers were 
waiting to come on board, and that several of them were notorious 
swindlers and gamblers, who, whilst in Arkansas, lived by the most 
desperate cheating and bullying, and who skulked about alternately 
betwixt Little Rock, Natchez, and New Orleans, in search of any 
plunder that violent and base means could bring into their hands. 
Some of their names were familiar to me, having heard them frequently 



I 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 107 

spoken of at Little Rock as scoundrels of the worst class. From the 
moment I heard they were coming on board as passengers I predicted 
to Mr. T******** that every hope of comfort was at an end. But 
I had also been told that two American officers, a Captain D***^* and 
a Lieutenant C****** — the latter a gentleman entrusted with the con- 
struction of the military road in Arkansas — were also coming on board ; 
and I counted upon them as persons who would be, by the force of 
education and a consciousness of what was due to their rank as officers, 
on the side of decency at least, if not of correct manners ; and if those 
persons had passed through the national military academy at West 
Point, or had served under the respectable chief* of the Topographical 
Bureau at Washington, I should not have been as grievously disap- 
pointed as it was my fate to be. It was true I had heard that these 
officers had been passing ten days with these scoundrels at a low 
tavern in this place, in the unrestrained indulgence of every vicious 
extravagance, night and day, and that they were the familiar intimates 
of these notorious swindlers. ]S"evertheless, believing that there must 
be some exaggeration in this, I continued to look forward with satis- 
faction to having them for fellow-passengers, confident that they would 
be our allies against any gross encroachments of the others. 

Very soon after I had retired to the steamer at sunset, the whole 
clique came on board, and the effect produced on us was something 
like that which would be 'made upon passengers in a peaceful vessel 
forcibly boarded by pirates of the most desperate character, whose 
manners seemed to be what they aspired to imitate. Rushing into the 
cabin, all but red-hot with whiskey, they crowded round the stove and 
excluded all the old passengers from it as much as if they had no right 
whatever to be in the cabin. Putting on a determined bullying air of 
doing what they pleased because they were the majority, and armed 
with pistols and knives, expressly made for cutting and stabbing, eight 
inches long and an inch and a half broad ; noise, confusion, spitting, 
smoking, cursing and swearing, drawn from the most remorseless pages 
of blasphemy, commenced and prevailed from the moment of this 
invasion. I was satisfied at once that all resistance would be vain, and 
that even remonstrance might lead to murder ; for a sickly old man in 
the cabin happening to say to one of them there was so much smoke 
he could hardly breathe, the fellow immediately said, "If any man 
tells me he don't like my smoking I'll put a knife into him." 

* Colonel Abert. 



108 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

As soon as supper was" over they all went to gambling, duripg 
■which, at every turn of the cards, imprecations and blasphemies of the 
most revolting kind were loudly vociferated. Observing them from a 
distance where Mr. T**^"^"**** and myself were seated, I perceived 
that one of them was the wretched looking fellow I had seen at Hig- 
nite's, on my way to Texas, who went by the name of Smith, and that 
his keeper Mr. Tunstall was with him. The most blasphemous fellows 
amongst them were two men of the names of Rector and Wilson, 
This Rector at that time held a commission under the national govern- 
ment as Marshal for the territory of Arkansas, who was a man of 
mean stature, low and sottish in his manners, and as corrupt and reck- 
less as it was possible for a human being to be. The man named 
Wilson was a suttler from cantonment Gibson, a military post about 
250 miles up the Arkansas : he had a remarkable depression at the 
bottom of his forehead ; and from this sinus his nose rising with a 
sudden spring, gave a fural expression to his face that exactly resem- 
bled the portrait of the wicked appi-entice in Hogarth. The rubric on 
his countenance too was a faithful register of the numerous journeys 
the whiskey bottle had made to his proboscis. 

We have in the following extract another specimen of 
this impartial author's delicacy in introducing private per- 
sons by name into such a work as his. It seems the chief 
crime of these " Mississippi gentlemen " was gambling. I 
wonder if he ever heard of the notorious "hells" of London? 
Have gentlemen never gamed in England ? 

Vicksburg is a modern settlement situated on the side of a hill very 
much abraded and cut up into gullies by the rains. The land rises 
about 200 feet above the Mississippi, but sinks again very soon to the 
east, forming a sort of ridge which appears at intervals as far as Baton 
Rouge. On returning to the steamer we were informed that eight or 
ten geyitlemen, some of whom were planters of great respectability, and 
amongst the rest, a Mr. Vick, after whom the place was called, were 
coming on board with the intention of going to New Orleans. This 
determined us to continue on with the boat, conceiving that we should 
be too many for the ruffians in the cabin, and that the captain — who 
was anxious to keep up a good understanding with the planters — 
would now interfere to keep some order there. But supper being over, 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 109 

and the faro-table spread as usual, what was my horror and astonish- 
ment at seeing these Mississippi gentlemen, with the respectable Mr. 
Vick, sitting down to faro with these swindlei-s, and in the course of a 
very short time gambling, drinking, smoking, and blaspheming just as 
desperately as the worst of them I The cabin became so full of tobacco 
smoke that it was impossible for me to remain in it. 

I shall dismiss Mr. Featherstonhaugli with the followiog 
extract, from which there seems to be an inclination towards 
prejudice against America in England : 

It is not to be concealed, nevertheless, that this frequent expression 
of aversion to the mother country, added to the late notorious violations 
of the most Solemn engagements from the same quarter, have raised a 
strong and a deep-rooted prejudice on this side of the Atlantic, which, 
although natural, is to a certain extent unjust, because there is httle or 
no discrimination observed in it. 

Mrs. Trollope is in every respect the worthy companion 
of Mr. Featherstonhaugh. Her name is so peculiarly illus- 
trative of the style of her book, that one feels half inclined 
to suspect that it was assumed for the occasion. I regret 
that I shall be unable to draw copiously from her highly 
variegated pages. I shall begin with the two general ob- 
servations on American character, which follow : 

It was not till I had leisure for more minute observation, that I felt 
aware of the influence of slavery upon the owners of slaves ; when I 
did, I confess I could not but think that the citizens of the United 
States had contrived, by their political alchemy, to extract all that was 
most noxious both in democracy and in slavery, and had poured the 
strange mixture through every vein of the moral organization of their 
country. 

How often did our homely adage recur to me, " AU work, and no 
play, would make Jack a dull boy ;" Jonathan is a very dull boy. "We 
are by no means so gay as our lively neighbors on the other side of the 
Channel; but, compared with the Americans, we are whirligigs and 
tetotums ; every day is a holiday, and every night a festival. 



110 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

For fear that our northern friends should be mortified 
by supposing that the attention of such talented writers had 
been exclusivelv devoted to the South, I beg leave to direct 
their attention to what Mrs. Trollope politely says of them : 

Nothing can exceed their activity and perseverance in all kinds of 
speculation, handicraft and enterprise, which promises a profitable 
pecuniary result. I heai'd an Englishman, who had been long resident 
in America, declare that in following, in meeting, or in overtaking, in 
the street, on the road, or in the field, at the theatre, the coffee-house, 
or at home, he had never overheard Americans conversing without the 
word DOLLAR being pronounced between them. Such unity of purpose, 
such sympathy of feeling, can, I believe, be found nowhere else, except, 
perhaps, in an ant's nest. The result is exactly what might be antici- 
pated. This sordid object, for ever before their eyes, must inevitably 
produce a sordid tone of mind, and, worse still, it produces a seared 
and blunted conscience on all questions of probity. I know not a 
more striking evidence of the low tone of morality which is generated 
by this universal pursuit of money, than the manner in which the 
New England States are described by Americans. All agree in 
saying that they present a spectacle of industry and prosperity delight- 
ful to behold, and tliis is the district and the population most constantly 
quoted as the finest specimen of their admirable country ; yet I never 
met a single individual in any part of the Union who did not paint 
these New Englanders as sly, grinding, selfish, and tricking. The 
Yankees (as the New Englanders are called) will avow these qualities 
themselves with a complacent smile, and boast that no people on the 
earth can match them at overreaching in a bargain. I have heard 
them unbiushingly relate stories of their cronies and friends, which, if 
believed among us, would banish the heroes from the fellowship of 
honest men for ever ; and all this is uttered with a simplicity which 
sometimes led me to doubt if the speakers knew what honor and 
honesty meant. Yet the Americans declare that " they are the most 
moral people upon earth." Again and again I have heard this asserted, 
not only in conversation, and by their writings, but even from the 
pulpit. Such broad assumption of superior virtue demands examina- 
tion, and after four years of attentive and earnest observation and 
inquiry, my honest conviction is, that the standard of moral character 
in the United States is very greatly lower than in Europe. Of their 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. Ill 

religion, as it appears outwardly, I have had occasion to speak fre- 
quently ; I pretend not to judge the heart, but, without any unchari- 
table presumption, I must take permission to say, that both Protestant 
England and Catholic France show an infinitely superior religious and 
moral aspect to mortal observation, both as to reverend decency of 
external observance, and as to the inward fruit of honest dealing 
between man and man. 

Mrs. Trollope being a native of England, descants of 
course upon our style of dinners and parties, and being a 
woman, she very good-naturedly introduces the ladies. The 
gossiping female was ugly as well as fat, and should, there- 
fore, be excused for what she says of her own sex. Human 
nature is very weak, and envy overwhelmingly predominant 
in the female heart : 

They seldom indulge in second courses, with all their ingenious 
temptations to the eating a second dinner ; but almost every table has 
its dessert (invariably pronounced desart), which is placed on the table 
before the cloth is removed, and consists of pastry, preserved fruits, 
and creams. They are " extravagantly fond," to use their own phrase, 
of puddings, pies, and all kinds of " sweets," particularly the ladies ; 
but are by no means such connoisseurs in soups and ragouts as the 
gastronomes of Europe. Almost every one drinks water at table ; and 
by a strange contradiction, in the country where hard drinking is 
more prevalent than in any other, there is less wine taken at dinner ; 
ladies rarely exceed one glass, and the great majority of females never 
take any. In fact, the hard drinking, so universally acknowledged, 
does not take place at jovial dinners, but, to speak plain English, in 
solitary dram-drinking. Coffee is not served immediately after dinner, 
but makes part of the serious matter of tea-drinking, which comes some 
hours later. Mixed dinner parties of ladies and gentlemen are very 
rare, and unless several foreigners are present, but little conversation 
passes at table. It certainly does not, in my opinion, add to the well 
ordering a dinner table, to set the gentlemen at one end of it, and 
the ladies at the other; but it is very rarely that you find it otherwise. 

There large evening parties are supremely dull ; the men some- 
times play cards by themselves, but if a lady plays, it must not be for 
money ; no ecarte, no chess ; very little music, and that little lamenta- 



112 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

bly bad. Among the blacks I heard some good voices singing in tune; 
but I scarcely ever heard a white American, male or female, go through 
an air without being out of tune before the end of it ; nor did I ever 
meet any trace of science in the singing I heard in society. To eat 
inconceivable quantities of cake, ice, and pickled oysters — and to show 
half their revenue in silks and satins, seem to be the chief object they 
have in these parties. 

The most agreeable meetings, I was assured by all the young 
people, were those to which no married women are admitted ; of the 
truth of this statement I have not the least doubt. These exclusive 
meetings occur frequently, and often last to a late hour ; on these occa- 
sions, I believe, they generally dance. At regular balls married ladies 
are admitted, but seldom take much part in the amusement. The 
refreshments are always profuse and costly, but taken in a most 
uncomfortable manner. I have known many private balls, where 
every thing was on the most liberal scale of expense, where the gentle- 
men sat down to supper in one room, while the ladies took theirs, 
standing, in another. 

"What we call pic-nics are very rare, and when attempted, do not 
often succeed well. The two sexes can hardly mix for the greater part 
of a day without great restraint and ennui ; it is quite contrary to 
their general habits; the favorite indulgences of the gentlemen 
(smoking cigars and drinking spirits) can neither be indulged in with 
decency, nor resigned with complacency. 

The ladies have strange ways of adding to their charms. They 
powder themselves immoderately, face, neck, and arms, with pulverized 
starch; the effect is indescribably disagreeable by daylight, and not 
very favorable at any time. They are also most unhappily partial to 
false hair, which they wear in surprising quantities ; this is the more 
to be lamented, as they generally have very fine hair of their own. I 
suspect this fashion to arise from an indolent mode of making their 
toilet, and from accomplished ladies' maids not being very abundant ; 
it is less trouble to append a bunch of waving curls here, there, and 
every where, than to keep their native tresses in perfect order. 

Though the expense of the ladies' dress greatly exceeds, in propor- 
tion to their general style of living, that of the ladies of Europe, it is 
very far (excepting in Philadelphia) from being in good taste. Tliey 
do not consult the seasons in the colors or in the style of their costume ; 
I have often shivered at seeing a young beauty picking her way 
through the snow with a pale rose-colored bonnet set on the very top 
of her head. 



EMGLISH "WRITERS ON AMERICA. 113 

She evidently does not admire the dancing of our Ame- 
rican ladies, and regrets that there are not a greater number 
of French dancing-masters among them. Our men are good 
looking, but, like the ladies, do not understand the mysteries 
of " carrying themselves " to Mrs. TroUope's satisfaction. I 
am especially sorry for this, as " comeliness " of our people is 
about the only thing which Mrs. T. was pleased to think 
passable. 

I fancied I could often trace a mixture of affectation and of shyness 
in their little mincing unsteady step, and the ever-changing position of 
the hands. They do not dance well : perhaps I should rather say they 
do not look well when dancing ; lovely as their faces are, they cannot, 
in a position that exhibits the whole person, atone for the want of 
tournure, and for the universal defect in the formation of the bust, 
which is rarely full or gracefully formed. 

I never saw an American man walk or stand well ; notwithstanding 
their frequent militia drillings, they are nearly all hollow-chested and 
round-shouldered : perhaps this is occasioned by no officer daring to 
say to a brother free-born " hold up your head ;" whatever the cause, 
the effect is very remarkable to a stranger. In stature, and in physiog- 
nomy, a great majority of the population, both male and female, are 
strikingly handsome, but they do not know how to do their own 
honors ; half as much comeliness elsewhere would produce ten times 
as much effect. 

I regret exceedingly that circumstances should prevent 
my enjoying the pleasure of presenting to my readers a few 
extracts from Capt. Hall and Mr. Dickens, for although 
they may be familiar with these authors, yet they probably 
would not have objected to perusing them a second time, as 
they have well deserved a place beside Mr. Feathersonhaugh 
and Mrs. Trollope. But the extracts I have made will be 
sufficient, with some that I shall add from the Quarterly 
Review, for my purpose of illustrating the spirit of the 
literary world towards us. 

In the following extracts from " Men and Manners in 



114 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

America," by the author of " Cyril Thornton " and " The 
Stranger in America," by Charles "William Janson, the 
same tone is observable, though my readers are, perhaps, 
less familiar with them than the preceding distinguished 
commentators on our country : 

Men and Manners in America^ by the author of " Cyril 
Thornton." 
Page 29: 
My curiosity was somewhat excited by the high reputation which 
an actor, named Forrest, has acquired in this country. I have since 
seen this rara avis, and, I confess, the praise so profusely lavished on 
him does appear to me somewhat gratuitous. He is a coarse, vulgar 
actor, without grace, without dignity, with little flexibility of feature, 
and entirely common-place in his conception of character. 

Page 30 : 

Banker's Hotel, New-Tork. 
Around I beheld the same scene of gulping and swallowing as if 
for a wager, which my observations at breakfast had prepared me to 
expect ; each individual seemed to pitchfork his food down his gullet. 

Page 116: 

A traveller has no sooner time to look about him in Boston than 
he receives the conviction, that he is thrown among a population of a 
character differing in much from that of any other city of the Union. 

Observe him in every different situation, — at the funeral and the 
marriage feast, at the theatre and the conventicle, in the ball-room and 
on the exchange, and you will set him down as of Gad's creatures the 
least liable to be influenced by circumstances appealing to the heart or 
the imagination. 

Page 126: 

There is nothing of local attachment about the N"ew Englander. * * 
The whole Union is full of stories of his cunning frauds and the impo- 
sitions he delights to perpetrate on his more simple neighbors. When- 
ever his love of money comes in competition with his zeal for religion 
the latter is sure to give way. He will insist on the scrupulous obser- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. llS 

vance of the Sabbath, and cheat his customer Monday morning. * * * 
The New Englanders are not an amiable people. One meets in them 
much to approve, little to admire, and nothing to love. * * * Nature 
injFraming a Yankee seems to have given him double brains and half a 
heart. 

Page 169: 

In truth every year must increase the perils of the Federal Consti- 
tution ; like other bubbles, it is liable to burst at any time, and the 
•world will then discover that its external glitter covered nothing but 
wind. 

Page 173: 

The leader who gave the first powerful impulse to the democratic 
tendencies of the Constitution. His countrymen call him great, but, in 
truth, he was only great when compared with those by whom he was 
surrounded. * * •'fr We seek in vain in the writings of Jefferson for 
indication of original or profound thought. * * * He has been truly 
called a good-hater. His resentments were not vehement and fiery ebul- 
litions of passion burning fiercely for a time, and then subsiding into in- 
difference or disUke. They were cool, fiendlike, and ferocious ; unsparing, 
undying, unappeasable. The enmities of most men terminate with the 
death of their object. It was the delight of Jefferson to trample on 
the graves of his political opponents. 

Page 174: 

The moral character of Jefferson was repulsive. Continually puling 
about liberty, equality, and the degrading curse of slavery, he brought 
his own children to the hammer, and made money by his debaucheries. 
Er^n at his death he did not manumit his numerous offspring, but left 
them, soul and body, to degradation and the cart-whip. A daughter 
of Jefferscn's was sold some years ago by public auction at New-Orleans, 
and purchased by a society of gentlemen, who wished to testify, by her 
J>b<;iation, their admiration of the statesman, " who dreamt of freedom 
in a slave's embrace." This single line gives more insight to the cha- 
racter of the man than whole volumes of panegyric. It will outlive 
hia epitaph, write it who may. 



116 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Page 195: 

In the present generation of Americans I can detect no symptom 
of improving taste or increasing elevation of intellect. 

Page 196: 

There is at this moment nothing in the United States deserving the 
name of library. At present an American might study every book in 
the limits of the Union, and still be regarded in many parts of Em'ope, 
especially Germany, as a man comparatively ignorant. 

Page 224 : 

I have already described the hall of the Representatives. I would 
now say something of the members (of Congress), Their aspect, as a 
body, was certainly somewhat different from any idea I had formed of 
a legislative body. Many were well-dressed, and of appearance suffi- 
ciently senatorial to satisfy the utmost demands even of a severer critic 
in such matters than I pretend to be ; but a large proportion undoubt- 
edly struck me as vulgar and uncouth, in a degree which nothing in 
my previous experience had prepared me to expect. It is impossible 
to look at these men without at once receiving the conviction that they 
are not gentlemen by habit or education, and assuredly in no society 
in Europe could they be received as such. 

Page 260 : 

Mr, Burgess's Speech in Congress. — "Were it possible to give any 
valuable report of the speech, which of itself would fill a volume, I 
would willingly appeal to it as exemplifying the justice of every blun. 
der, both of taste and judgment, which I have attributed to American 
eloquence. There were scraps of Latin and Shakspeare. There were 
words without meaning, and meanings not worth the trouble of em- 
bodying in words. There were bad jokes, and bad logic, and argu- 
ments without logic of any kind. There were abundance of exotic 
graces and homebred vulgarities; of elaborate illustration, of estab- 
lished truths, and vehement invective, and prosy declamation ; of con- 
elusions without premises, and premises that led to no conclusions ; and 
yet this very speech was the object of an eight days' wonder to the 
whole Union. The amount of praise bestowed on it in the public 
journals would have been condemned as hyperbolical if appHed to an 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 117 

oration of Demosthenes. Mr. Burgess, at the termination of the session, 
was feted at New- York; and Rhode Island exulted in the verbal 
prowess of the most gifted of her sons. 

Page 294: 

I had never heard of Mrs. Trollope ; but at New- York I had after- 
wards the pleasure of becoming acquainted with her, and can bear 
testimony to her conversation being imbued with all the grace, spirit, 
and vivacity which have since delighted the world in her writings. 
How far Mrs. Trollope's volumes pi'esent a just picture of American 
society it is not for me to decide, though I can offer willing testimony 
to the general fidelity of her descriptions. * * * But her claims to 
the gratitude of the Cincinnatians are undoubtedly very great. Her 
architectural talent has beautified the city, and her literary powers 
have given it celebrity. For nearly thirty years Cincinnati had gradu- 
ally been increasing in opulence, and enjoying a vulgar and obscure 
prosperity ; corn had grown, and hogs had fattened ; men had built 
houses, and women borne children ; but in all the higher senses of 
urbane existence Cincinnati was a nonentity. " It was unknown, un- 
honored, and unsung." Ears polite had never heard of it. There was 
not the glimmering of hope that it would be mentioned twice in a 
twelvemonth on the Liverpool exchange. But Mrs. Trollope came, 
and a zone of light has ever since encircled Cincinnati. Its inhabitants 
are no longer a race unknown to fame. Their manners, habits, virtues, 
tastes, vices and pursuits are known to all the world ; but, strange to 
say, the market-place of Cincinnati is yet unadorned by the statue of 
the great benefactress of the city. 

Page 296 : 

In regard to the passengers (on the steamboat) truth compels me to 
say that any thing so disgusting in human shape I had never seen. 
Their morals and their manners were alike detestable — a cold and cal- 
lous selfishness, a disregard of all the decencies of society, were so ap- 
parent in feature, word, and action, that I found it impossible not to 
wish that their catalogue of sins had been enlarged by one more — 
hypocrisy. Of hypocrisy, however, they were not guilty. The con- 
versation in the cabin was interlarded with the vilest blasphemy, not 
uttered in a state of mental excitement, bxit with a coolness and delib- 
eration truly fiendlike. Tliere was a Baptist clergyman on board, but 



118 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

his presence did not operate as a restraint. The scene of drinking and 
gambling had no intermission ; it continued day and night. The cap- 
tain of the vessel, so far from discouraging either vice, was one of the 
most flagrant offenders in both. He was decidedly the greatest gam- 
bler on board, and was often so drunk as to be utterly incapable of 
taking command of the vessel. ^ -^ * One circumstance may be 
mentioned, which is tolerably illustrative of the general habits of the 
people ; in every steamboat there is a public comb and hairbrush, sus- 
pended by a string from the ceiling of the cabin. These utensils are 
used by the whole body of the passengers, and their condition the 
pen of Swift alone could describe. There is no tooth-brush ; simply, 
I believe, because the article is entirely unknown to the American 
toilet. 

Page 266 : 

On the following evening I attended the President's (General Jack- 
son's) levee. Three — I am not sure four — large saloons were thrown 
open on the occasion, and were literally crammed with the most sin- 
gular and miscellaneous assemblage I had ever seen. * * * The 
numerical majority of the company seemed of the class of tradesmen 
and farmers, respectable men, fresh from the plough or the counter, 
who, accompanied by their wives and daughters, came forth to greet 
their President and enjoy the splendors of the gala. There were also 
generals, and commodores, and public officers of every grade, and fo- 
reign ministers, and members of Congress, and ladies of all ages and 
degrees of beauty, from the fair and laughing gii-1 of fifteen to the hag- 
gard dowager of seventy. * * * There were mayors in broadcloth 
and corduroys, redolent of gin and tobacco, and mayors' ladies in chintz 
or russet, with huge Paris ear-rings and tawny necks, profusely deco- 
rated with beads of colored glass. There were tailors from the board, 
and judges from the bench ; lawyers, who opened their mouths at one 
bar, and tapsters who closed them at another ; in short, every trade, 
calling, craft, and profession, appeared to have sent delegates to this extra- 
ordinary convention,* * * For myself I had seen too much of the United 
States to expect any thing different, and certainly anticipated that the 
mixture would contain all the ingredients I have ventured to describe. 
Yet, after all, I was taken by surprise. * * * There were present at 
this levee men begrimed with all the sweat and filth accumulated in 
their day's — perhaps their week's labor. There were sooty artificers 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 119 

fresh from the forge or the workshop ; and one individual I remember, 
either a miller or baker, who, wherever he passed, left marks of con- 
tact on the garments of the company. The most prominent group, 
however, in the assemblage was a party of Irish laborers, employed on 
some neighboring canal, who had evidently been apt scholars in the 
doctrine of liberty and equality, and were determined on the present 
occasion to assert the full privileges of the great "unwashed." I re- 
marked these men pushing aside the more respectable portion of the 
company with a certain jocular audacity which put one in mind of the 
humors of Donnybrook fair. 

Page 279 : 

During the time I was engaged at the levee, my servant remained 
in the hall, through which lay the entrance to the apartments occupied 
by the company, and the day following gave me a few details of a 
scene somewhat extraordinary but sufficiently characteristic to merit 
record. * * * It appeared that the refreshments intended for the 
company, consisting of punch and lemonade, were brought by the ser- 
vants, with the intention of reaching the interior saloons. No sooner, 
however, were these ministers of Bacchus descried to be approaching, 
than a rush was made from within, and the whole contents of the trays 
were seized in tratisitu by a sort of coup-de-main ; and the bearers, 
having thus rapidly achieved the distribution of their refreshments, had 
nothing for it but to return for a fresh supply. This was brought, and 
quite as compendiously dispatched ; and it at length became apparent 
that, without resorting to some extraordinary measures, it would be 
impossible to accomphsh the intended voyage, and the more respectable 
portion of the audience would be suffered to depart with dry palates, 
and in utter ignorance of the extent of the hospitality to which they 
were indebted. The butler, however, was an Irishman, and, in order 
to baffle further attempts at intercepting the supplies, had recourse to 
an expedient marked by all the ingenuity of his countrymen. * * * 
He procured an escort, armed them with sticks, and, on his next ad- 
vance, these men kept flourishing their shillelahs around the trays with 
such alarming vehemence that the predatory horde, who anticipated a 
repetition of their plunder, were scared from their prey, and, amid 
a scene of execration and laughter, the refreshments, thus guarded, 
accomplished their journey to the saloon in safety. 



120 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Page 346 : 

The inhabitants (of Georgia) bear a bad character in other parts of 
the Union. They are, perhaps, a little savage and ferocious, and, in 
regard to morals, one is tempted occasionally to regret that the gibbet 
is not abroad as well as the schoolmaster. From Fort Mitchell, I ti'a- 
velled with three attorneys, two storekeepers, two cotton planters and 
a slave dealer. My notions of the sort of conversation prevalent in 
Newgate may not be very accurate, but I much doubt whether it 
would be found to indicate such debasement, both of thought and 
principle, as that to which I was condemned to listen during this 
journey. Georgia receives large accessions of population in the off- 
scourings of other slave States. The restraints of law are little felt, 
and it is the only State where I heard it publicly asserted that justice 
is not purely administered. 

The Stranger in America^ by Charles William Janson. 

Page 9 : 

While at our first meal on board, a specimen of American effrontery 
was given us by Bob, the cook-boy, a sprig of a true-born Yankee, 
who, reaching his dirty arm across the table, took a tumbler and 
deliberately filled it with equal parts of rum and water. He looked 
roimd, and familiarly nodding his head, said, " Good folks, here's to 
you." 

Page 29: 

At Boston they distil large quantities of that detestable spirit called 
New England Rum. It is made of damaged molasses, and its baleful 
effects are severely felt in every part of the Union. In Virginia, the 
Carolinas, and Georgia, it foments quarrels, which produce combats, 
like bears and wolves, gouging, biting, kicking, and tearing each other's 
flesh, of which I shall make particular mention when I speak of those 
States. 

Page 309 : 

On a branch of this river (the Alligator, in North Carolina), in the 
year I have already named, lived a wealthy planter, by name John 
Foster. With this man I remained several days, and in liim learned 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 121 

something of a Southern Planter, * * * Mine host had led me over 
the plantation, and we arrived, almost exhausted from the effects of a 
scorching sun, at the dinner hour. Our meal consisted of venison and 
a variety of vegetables, which we diluted with apple brandy and water. 
This is a most detestable beverage. * *^ * I had no choice of spirits, 
and to drink water undiluted is often of dangerous tendency. * * * 
Thus is an Alligator tavern provided with liquors, and, in fact, it was 
as well suj^plied as any other place of public resort in the district.* * * 
A different circumstance produced on me, while at dinner, more dis- 
gust than even the fumes of the deleterious drink. Tliis was the offi- 
cious attendance of two wenches, three-parts grown, without even the 
covering our first mother made for herself after her expulsion from 
Paradise. * * * The effluvia arising from the body of a negro in the 
mouth of July are by no means odoriferous ; hence I could have dfs- 
pensed with one of these placed, in compliment, behind my chair. To 
complete the scene, Mr. Foster's daughter, a fine girl of sixteen, dined 
at our table, and gave orders to the naked creatures of her own sex 
with the most perfect sang froid. 

What I sliall give from the Foreign Quarterly Eeview, 
of January, 1844, is merely an example of the tone of the 
periodical and daily press towards us for years past, as those 
will admit who have been familiar with that branch of Eng- 
lish literature. The article referred to, is on the Poets of 
America, and commences as follows : " American Poetry 
always reminds us of the advertisement headed, ' the best 
substitute for silver ;' if it be not the genuine thing it 
'looks just as handsome, and is miles out of sight cheaper.' " 

We are far from regarding it as a just ground of reproach to the 
Americans, that their poetry is little better than a far-off echo of the 
father-land ; but we think it is a reproach to them that they should be 
eternally thrusting their pretensions to the poetical character in the 
face of educated nations. In this particular, as in most others, what 
they want in the integrity of their assumption, they make up in 
swagger and impudence. To believe themselves, they are the finest 
poets in the whole world : before we close this article we tope to satisfy 
the reader that, with two or three exceptions, there is not a poet of 
mark in the whole Union. 
6 



122 • ENGLISH ITEMS. 

A very original notion of our moral and physical nature 
is advanced in the following : 

They have felled forests, drained marshes, cleared wildernesses, 
built cities, cut canals, laid down railroads (too much of this too with 
other people's money), and worked out a great practical exemplifica- 
tion, in an amazingly short space of time, of the political immoralities 
and social vices of which a democracy may be rendered capable. 

There must be a national heart, and national sympathies, and an 
intellectual atmosphere for poetry. There must be the material to 
work upon as well as to work with. The ground must be prepared 
before the seed is cast into it, and tended and well-ordered, or it will 
become choked with weeds, as American literature, such as it is, is now 
choked in every one of its multifarious manifestations. As yet the 
American is horn-handed and pig-headed, hard, persevering, unscrupu- 
lous, carnivorous, ready for all weathers, with an incredible genius for 
lying, a vanity elastic beyond comprehension, the hide of a buffalo, and 
the shriek of a steam-engine ; ' a real nine-foot breast of a fellow, steel 
twisted and made of horse-shoe na'ih, the rest of him being cast iron 
with steel springs.' 

The subjoined picture of American society is highly 
interesting, as it emanates from the leading British Period- 
ical. It is often gratifying to know what our neighbors 
think of us. The English have been always very candid : 

Peopled originally by adventurers of all classes and casts, America 
has been consistently replenished ever since by the di*egs and outcasts 
of all other countries. Spaniards, Portuguese, French and English, 
Irish, Welsh, and Scotch, have from time to time poured upon her 
coasts like wolves in search of the means of life, living from hand to 
mouth, and struggling outward upon the free Indians whom they 
hunted, cheated, demoralized, and extirpated in the sheer fury of 
himgry and fraudulent aggrandizement. Catholics, Unitarians, Cal- 
vinists and Infidels were indiscriminately mixed up in this work of 
violent seizure and riotous colonization, settling down at last into sec- 
tional democracies, bound together by a common interest, and a 
common distrust, and evolving an ultimate form of self-government 
and federal centralization to keep the whole in check, 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 123 

This brigand confederation grew larger and larger every day, with 
a rapidity unexampled in the history of mankind, by continual acces- 
sions from all parts of the habitable world. All it required to 
strengthen itself was human muscles ; it lacked nothing but workmen, 
craftsmen, blood, bones, and sinews. Brains were little or nothing to 
the purpose — character, morality, still less. "A long pull, a strong 
pull, and a pull altogether," was the one thing needful. Every new 
hand was a help, no matter what brand was upon its palm. The 
needy and dissolute, tempted by the prospect of gain — the debased, 
glad to escape from the old society which had flung them off — the cri- 
minal, flying from the laws they had outraged — all flocked to America 
as an open haven of refuge for the Pariahs of the wide earth. Thus 
her population was augmented and is daily augmenting ; thus her re- 
publics are armed; thus her polite assemblies and select circles are 
constantly enlivened by fresh draughts of kindred spirits and foreign 
celebrities — the Sheriff Parkinses, the General Holts, the town-treasurer 
Flinns, the chartist secretary Campbells, and the numerous worthies 
who, having successfully swindled their own countrymen, seek an ele- 
gant retirement in the free States of the Union to enjoy the fruits of 
their plunder. The best blood America boasts of was injected into 
her at the time of the Irish rebellion, and she looks up with a justifia- 
ble pride, taking into consideration the peculiar quality of her other 
family and heraldic honors, to such names as those of Emmet and 
M'Nevin. 

Can poetry spring out of an amalgam so monstrous and revolting? 
Can its pure spirit breathe an air so fetid and stifling ? You might as 
reasonably expect the vegetation of the tropics on the wintry heights 
of Lapland. The whole state of American society, from first to last, 
presents insuperable obstacles to the cultivation of letters, the expansion 
of intellect, the formation of great and original minds. There is an 
instinctive tendency in it to keep down the spiritual to the level of 
the material. The progress is not upwards but onwards. There must 
be no " vulgar great " in America, lifted on wings of intellectual power 
above the level of the community. 

Our orators and editors appear to enjoy no brighter re- 
putation with them than the mass of society — 

The orator is compelled to address himself to the low standard of 
the populace; he must strew his speech with flowers of Billingsgate 



124 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

with hyperbolical expletives, and a garnish of falsehoods, to make it 
effective, and rescue it from the chance of being serious or refined. The 
preacher must preach down to the fashion of his congregation, or look 
elsewhere for bread and devotion. The newspaper editor must make 
his journal infamous and obscene if he would have it popular; for let 
it never be supposed that the degi*adation of the American press is the 
work of the writers in it, but of the frightful eagerness of the public 
appetite for grossness and indecencj. 

How conveniently oblivious the learned reviewer appears 
to be of those passages in our history, in which England so 
conspicuously figured. He may possibly though never have 
heard of the Kevolution, or the war of 1812; and may be 
ignorant that such battles as Yorktown and New Orleans 
have ever been fought : — 

One gi'and element is wanted for the nurture of the poetical cha- 
racter in America: — she has no traditions. She started at once into 
life, rude, rugged, savage, self-confident. She has nothing to fall back 
upon in her history — no age of gold — no fabulous antiquity — no fairy- 
land. The want of historical elements is supplied by the intensity of 
the glorification. The two great subjects are Liberty and the Indians. 

They don't admire the subject of " Liberty and the In- 
dians." 

Two more unfortunate topics could not have been hit upon. All 
men are born equal, says the declaration of independence; we are the 
freest of the free, says the poet ; and so the slave-owner illustrates the 
proposition by trafficking in his own sons and daughters, and enlarging 
his seraglio to increase his live stock. He is his own lusty breeder of 
equal-born men. A curious instance of American libei-ty is cited by a 
traveller, who informs us that he knows a lady residing near "Washing- 
ton, who is in the habit of letting out her own natural brother ! As 
to the Indians, nothing can exceed the interest these writers take in 
their picturesque heads and flowing limbs — except the interest they 
take in their lands. Nobody could ever suspect, while reading these 
fine effusions upon the dignity and beauty of the Indians, that they 
were written by people, through whose cupidity, falsehood and cruelty, 
the Indians have been stripped of their possessions, and left to starve 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 125 

and rot ; that while they were thus evincing the tenderest regard for 
the Indian nations in octosjllabic vei*8e, Congress was engaged, through 
its servants, in suborning Indian chiefs, and making them drunk, to 
entrap them into deeds of sale of their hunting grounds ; and, as if 
these and similar atrocities were not enough to mark the difference 
between the poetry and the policy of the States, importing blood- 
hounds from Cuba to hunt the Indians of Florida ! It is quite impos- 
sible to account for the incredible folly which tempts them to indulge 
in such themes, unless we refer it to the same infatuation which makes 
them boast of their morality in the face of their filthy newspaper press, 
and of their honesty in the teeth of pocket-picking Pennsylvania. 

Speaking of some of our national songs, he says : 

This standing invitation to go to war, although there be no foe to 
fight withal, hits off with felicity the empty bluster of the national 
character. The call upon the "immortal patriots" to "rise once more" 
is sung at all hours in every corner of the Union by men, women, and 
children ; and it is very likely that every day the " heaven-born band " 
get up out of their beds they believe they are actually rising once more 
to defend their rights and their shore. This is the key to the popu- 
larity of "Hail, Columbia." It flatters the heroic qualities of the 
people, without making any further requisition upon their valor than 
that they shall implicitly believe in it themselves. " The Star-spangled 
Banner" is constructed on the same principle, and blows the "heaven- 
born" bubble with equal enthusiasm; closing with the vivacity of 
a cock that knows when to crow on the summit of its odoriferous hill. 

Here is another condensed commentary on our society 
and manners : 

These are genuine samples of the cock-a-doodle-doo style of warlike 
ballads. But the most remarkable writer of this class was Robert 
Paine, a heaven-born genius, who is said to have ruined himself by his 
love of the " wine-cup " — which is American for mint-julep and gin- 
sling. He was so depraved in his tastes, and so insensible to the ele- 
gant aspirations of his family, as to marry an actress! It is amusing 
and instructive to learn from the Amei'ican editor that this monstrous 
union between two professors of two kindred arts was regarded with 
such genteel horror in the republican circles, as to lead to po;)r Paine's 



126 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

"exclusion from fashionable society, and to a disagreement with his 
father, which lasted till his death ! " The false nature of all this is as 
striking as its pseudo fine breeding ; and it shows how much bigotry 
and intolerance may be packed under the surface of a large pretension 
to liberality and social justice. Certainly, there is nothing so vulgar 
and base as American refinement — nothing so coarse as American deli- 
cacy — nothing so tyrannical as American freedom. 

Read his summing-up on American literature : 

Stepping out of the Hterature of England into that of America, is 
like going back twenty years into a sort of high-life-below-stairs resus- 
citation of the style of that period. 

The following occurs in his closing paragraph : 

Literature is, consequently, the least tempting of all conceivable 
pursuits ; and men must float with the stream, and live as they can 
with the society in which they have been educated. Even were the 
moral materials by which this vast deposit of human dregs is supplied, 
other than they are — purer, wiser, and more refined, — still America 
could not originate or support a literature of her own, so long as Eng- 
lish productions can be imported free of cost, and circulated through 
the Union at a cheaper rate than the best productions of the country. 

And yet there are Americans, who, in order to extenuate 
their senseless devotion to England, will obstinately close 
their eyes to the fact that such things have been written of 
us in the "fatherland." But when they are compelled to 
remember that an article, rich in such extracts as the pre- 
ceding, has appeared at the head of the leading Quarterly of 
Great Britain, they will scarcely dare contend that English- 
men tenderly love uS. The simple statement of so absurd a 
proposition must at once become its refutation. 

When the learned and elegant "Foreign Quarterly" can 
descend to such epithets as are so profusely applied to us in 
the above extracts, it is unnecessary to cull " Flowers of 
Billingsgate " from the more licentious daily press. When 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 127 

Featherstonhaugh, Trollope, and Hall, have made their re- 
putations, and Dickens increased his, by such slanderous 
attacks on America, it is natural that they should have 
crowds of humble imitators in their calumnious slang. But 
I shall dismiss , English writers, and turn to some of their 
specified accusations. 

If spitting be, as the English fain would have it, a na- 
tionality, let us boldly spit it into respectability. Our own 
timorous apologies for this heinous sin of expectoration, only 
encourages our rivals to lecture us upon it. I am no advo- 
cate of the habit, but at war as I consider it to be with good 
taste, I am willing to see it carried to excess, if but to set 
at defiance the impertinent criticism of Englishmen. I of- 
ten feel heartily inclined to become a tobacco-chewer my- 
self, in order to show my individual contempt for these offi- 
cious meddlers. Who appointed them moral regulators of 
our domestic economy ? or what right have they to interfere 
with our practices, whatever they may be ? Their presump- 
tion is founded on our condescending to deprecate their at- 
tacks. 

In what does it concern John Bull, if each Western far- 
mer, and Southern planter, should be pleased to fill with 
tobacco juice a pool, that would float a whole hogshead of 
the weed ? He might not approve of it, he might even be 
disgusted by it, but I would have him taught better manners 
than to sneer at it. I am willing that our spitting should 
be a source of annoyance to him, but not of contempt. When 
we have taught him to entertain a proper respect for us, he 
will discuss with considerate caution even what we ourselves 
may be willing to confess a fault. When he is convinced 
that we have attained such a position in the world, as to 
enable us even to spit with impunity, he may still attack the 
habit, but will no longer attempt to ridicule it. 

Although I am a strong believer in every individual's 



128 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

being permitted to do wliat happens to be most in accord- 
ance with his own fancy, provided he does not interfere with 
the rights of his neighbors, yet, as I said before, I am no ad- 
vocate of the peculiarly free-and-easy habit of tobacco- 
chewing. I regard it as being inconsistent with that scrupu- 
lous neatness in household arrangements, which is the basis 
of true elegance. I believe it is often most inconvenient to 
him who indulges in it ; but for the life of me, I cannot dis- 
cover any thing about it so especially offensive. I contend 
that it is superlatively disgusting to the English, merely be- 
cause it is an American habit. Hating us with an intensity 
that helpless rage can only know, it is their chiefest delight 
to cavil at us. And finding nothing more serious to object 
to, our earlier traducers seized upon this, and each hireling 
caterer to the morbid feeling against America in England, 
attempts a facetious improvement on the stereotyped jokes 
of his predecessors. By constant exaggeration, a simple ha- 
bit has grown into a great bugbear, whose terrors no Eng- 
lishman, who crosses the Atlantic, ever omits to enlarge upon. 
What after all is there so unbearably revolting about spit- 
tle ? Our Saviour in one of his earlier miracles " spat on 
the ground, made clay of the spittle, and anointed the eyes 
of the blind man with the clay." " And he said unto him, 
go wash in the pool of Siloam. He went his way therefore, 
and washed, and came seeing." I have with a crowd of pil- 
grims gone down to drink from this very pool, for the water 
had borrowed new virtue from the miracle. 

A spittoon is certainly rather an unsightly sort of an ar- 
ticle, but I have no recollection of ever being seriously af- 
fected, by witnessing the ejection of the amber colored 
juice, by the most inveterate devotee to the weed. But 
admitting that the leniency with which I regard tobacco 
chewing, is the result of prejudice, and that the habit is as 
stomach-turning as the English profess to consider it, I 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 129 

still contend that its terrors are heightened by being most 
prevalent in America. Other nations have peculiarities ; in- 
finitely more trying to mawkishly delicate sensibilities than 
the chewing of tobacco, which are not only passed over with- 
out condemnation, but English travellers pride themselves' 
upon the ease with which they conform to them. The Eng- 
lish at home are guilty of things positively nauseating, yet 
the stoutest among them, who would pretend great indiffer- 
ence to a whizzing cannon ball, professes to be faintishly af- 
fected by the sight of a tobacco quid. 

What could be better calculated, under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, to destroy an appetite, though as vigorous as 
an Englishman's, than to see some awkward lout groping 
with his thumb for the stuffing of a turkey, or dabbling in 
the gravy with his fingers ? Yet what upstart islander has 
ever preached a crusade against the Turks, because they 
did not introduce knives and forks at their tables, but primi- 
tively preferred their " pickers and stealers." In this in- 
stance, his railing would have a dash of patriotism and com- 
mon sense about it ; for if successful, he might materially 
increase the trade of Sheffield by his efforts. But so far 
from his objecting to the Oriental style of feeding, a chapter 
in almost every English book of travels in the East, is de- 
voted to the infinite grace with which the author sat cross- 
legged, and took his food with his fingers. 

In Paris, at the end of a dinner, a small cup of per- 
fumed water is placed before each guest, with which he is 
expected thoroughly to rinse his mouth, and then spirt, de- 
posit, or let fall the water — whichever term you prefer — 
in a silver basin which accompanies it. So far from an 
Englishman's discovering any thing objectionable about this 
habit, he highly approves it, and is rapidly introducing it 
into England. Next to the delight enjoyed during his din- 
ner, nothing appears to afford him so high a degree of satis- 
6* 



130 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

faction, as this rather too French operation after it. Al- 
though I have reason to suspect — from the fact of water 
being scarce in Paris, and the contents of the little cups 
always being highly unctuous to the touch — that the per- 
fumed water furnished at the cafes washes more than one 
mouth during the day ; yet an Englishman rejoices in its 
use, and still professes, like the Turks, to make cleanliness a 
part of their religion. If spitting be objectionable on gen- 
eral principles, it seems to me that, as little fastidious as I 
am, I might be excused for considering it disgusting at table. 
But although the femininely frail nerves of an Englishman 
instantly become relaxed in the presence of a spittoon on 
the floor in America, yet he deems the same article an ap- 
propriate ornament of a dinner table in France. This seem- 
ing contradiction is perfectly accountable. One custom is 
American, the other French. France assumes, and main- 
tains the privilege of setting the fashions for the politer 
portion of the world, and of course what she does, however 
absurd or disgusting, is necessarily in accordance with good 
taste. But America being, even according to her own con- 
fession, but the modest imitator of England, must expect to 
be laughed at by her distinguished model. 

It has often afforded me great amusement in the cafes of 
Paris, to watch the movements of a newly-arrived John 
Bull, eager to assume the deliberate air of a man of travel 
and observation. His extraordinary attempts at the names 
of the French dishes — his frequent calls for the gasco?i, as 
he usually pronounces the name — his multitudinous wants, 
and his sputtering rage when every thing was not done to his 
satisfaction, were all ludicrous in the extreme. But it was 
the climax of the funny to see him, at the end of his ample 
repast, seize his little cup of water, and gaze profoundly 
into it. With a sigh of secret satisfaction, he would swig 
three-fourths of its contents at a gulp, roll it in his mouth 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 131 

with frightful contortions of feature, and a gurgling sound 
of semi-suffocation, and then squirt into his basin, or rather 
spittoon, a cascade worthy of a sea-sick toper. It was very 
— very rich. The simply disgusting became, in his hands, 
laughable. One forgot his loathing in his merriment. But 
this same cockney coxcomb, who seemed to pride himself on 
the size and force of the stream he could throw at the din- 
ner-table, would have instant recourse to his vial of aroma- 
tic vinegar upon the most unobtrusive getting-rid of super- 
fluous saliva, by an American in the street. As I said be- 
fore, the former habit is French^ and so conducive to clean- 
liness. To rinse one's mouth before leaving table is cer- 
tainly not a comely habit to look upon, though it is, without 
doubt, very French, and very clean. Using the same argu- 
ment, it might be declared that the vulgar habit of a man's 
blowing his nose with his fingers was, in the abstract, much 
cleaner than using a handkerchief, and carefully stowing it 
away in his pocket. But I scarcely think that even the 
most adventurous of Frenchmen would, on this account, 
advocate the introduction of the custom into refined circles. 
In theory it may be clean to do, but it is decidedly not 
pleasant to see. And so I think of the Parisian habit of 
rinsing the mouth at table — British advocacy to the con- 
trary, notwithstanding. 

Nature has wisely placed the nose as a sentinel to the 
stomach, and whatever is offensive to one, we may be sure is 
not proper for the other. And yet the elegant gourmands of 
England contend that venison is not fit to be served till the 
very waiter must hold his nose at it, as he places it on the 
table. The daintiest epicures will greedily devour pheasants 
and partridges which have picked themselves, merely because 
the flesh has become too " short " to retain the feathers. 
Yet these bold Britons, who have from their infancy, in vio- 
lation of nature's laws, loaded their stumach.s with such loath- 



132 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

some crammings, profess that their insatiate maws are en- 
dued with sensibilities so delicate, that thej are painfully af- 
fected by the sight of a little tobacco-juice. Could affectation 
be more absurd, or contradiction more ridiculous ? I would 
as soon think of a "brick's being dissolved by the sight of mor- 
tar, as an Englishman's stomach being turned by the sight 
of any thing. It's much the firmest part about him. 

But in conclusion of this not very interesting subject, 
if we in America must spit, let us spit out .courageously be- 
fore the whole world. There is nothing to be ashamed of 
in it, and even if there was, our attemping to spit by stealth 
would only invite new attacks from our enemy, by this im- 
plied confession of a fault. 

Many things are judged of in this world, by the manner 
in which people do them. Nothing can be more opposed to 
the loosest notions of morality, and chivalry, than stealing. 
Yet what Christian, or modern hero professes to despise 
the Spartans, as a nation of thieves ? And why do they not 
do so, as they ought, in accordance with their moral profes- 
sions? Simply because the Spartans gloried in theft. A 
scared dog with a tin pan to his tail will always have the 
whole pack of village curs at his heels, but if he turns upon 
them his assailants pause ere they attack him. 

So I beseech again, let us spit fearlessly and profusely. 
Spitting, on ordinary occasions, may be regarded by a por- 
tion of my countrymen as a luxury : it becomes a duty in 
the presence of an Englishman. Let us spit around him — 
above him — and beneath him — every where but on him, that 
he may become perfectly familiar with the habit in all of its 
phases. I would make it the first law of hospitality to an 
Englishman, that every tobacco twist should be called into 
requisition, and every spittoon be flooded, in order thoroughly 
to initiate him into the mysteries of " chewing." Leave no 
room for his imagination to work. Only spit him once into 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 133 

a state of friendly familiarity with the barbarous custom, and 
he will be but too happy to maintain a profound silence on 
the subject for the rest of his life. I would give each hurry- 
ing tourist, who lands on our shores, inflated by preconceived 
opinions for an abusive book on America, his fill of spitting 
as an infallible remedy for his windiness. Let the dose be 
copious, and the cure will be complete. If no more desirable 
end be attained by the prescription, we shall at least be 
allowed to spit in peace. 

After the notable habit of salivarizing, there is nothing 
about Americans so constantly harped upon by Englishmen^ 
as their precipitate rush to the table, and even greater hurry 
to leave it. The general stampede for the table, which I 
acknowledge sometimes occurs on steamboats, and in interior 
towns, but never in our cities, I most emphatically disap- 
prove of Such haste is too indicative of the carnivorous 
propensities of the English themselves, to be at all in ac- 
cordance with my rigidly American notions. But what 
reasonable objection could be' urged to a gentleman's quietly 
leaving a public dinner-table, when his wants were satisfied, 
it would, without English assistance, be somewhat difficult 
to divine. An Englishman objects to the haste with which 
we dispatch so important an affair as dinner. Being him- 
self endowed with the voracity of a shark, the gizzard of an 
ostrich, and " the dilating powers of the anaconda," he 
imagines that every one must, from necessity, gorge his food 
as he does himself To any man who has ever taken the di- 
mensions of an Englishman's appetite, it can no longer be 
a matter of surprise, that with him feeding becomes a very 
serious sort of undertaking. It is one of those things which, 
like the "cooling" of a steamer, necessarily requires time, 
and which, not even the hurry of coal-heavers could decidedly 
facilitate. 

The process of " bolting food," so minutely elaborated on 



134 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

by EDglishmen, I have never seen in any portion of our 
country, though these six-week travellers, more fortunate 
than mj'self, appear to have met with it everywhere. But 
in England I have witnessed this bolting operation, which 
I immediately recognized as the original of pictures of 
imaginary scenes in America drawn by Englishmen. And 
yet I never knew an Anglo-Dane-Saxon-Norman to make a 
hasty meal. Shovel his food as he may, it is nevertheless a 
slow operation — so is levelling a mountain. 

Although the dinner-table is the scene of an English- 
man's most extraordinary exploits, he has the bad taste not 
to be proud of them, though Heliogabalus himself might 
justly have been so. Although a glutton by nature, yet 
strangely enough he is sensitive on the subject of his glut- 
tony. He cannot endure that the moderate appetites and 
simple wants of another nation should render his own greedi- 
ness so conspicuous. He has attempted therefore to force 
them into at least an affectation of his peculiar habits, by 
railing at the haste with which they take their meals. 

It seems to me that the time allowed for dinner in our 
principal towns and cities, ought to be ample for the satis- 
faction even of a British appetite. But it appears that this 
is not so. Every book of travels which is given to the world 
after twenty days' close study and minute observation of a 
country, nearly equal in extent to the whole of Europe, 
teems with piteous complaints of the hurry with which the 
author was compelled to take his dinner. He apparently 
demands even a longer time for his meals in America than is 
required in his own country — this may be accounted for by 
the fact, that in England a man pays for each article he 
orders — which is measured out with mathematical exact- 
itude. An Englishman's economy, under such circumstances, 
neutralizes his voracity. But in America, where a sumptuous 
dlspb.y of viands is made, to which he has never been accus- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 135 

tomed, and where he enjoys the privilege of stuffing himself 
to his utmost capacity, without an increase of expense, he 
very naturally feels inclined to improve his opportunities, 
and lingers at the table accordingly. His expressions of 
grief are so earnest, and his lamentations so touching, that 
from my heart I pity him. I cannot resist the temptation 
of suggesting, that an English dining-room be furnished in 
our principal hotels, where hungry Islanders may sociably 
spend the day in a manner most in accordance with their 
feelings. 

Americans really eat with no more haste than English- 
men, — the difference in the time, demanded for dinner by 
the two nations, arising altogether from the difference in the 
quantity of food consumed. As an Englishman eats three 
times as much as an American, it is evident from calculation, 
that tven with the assistance of the English habit of " bolt- 
ing," he must remain a considerably longer time at table. 
The travelled fox lost his tail, and earnestly advised his 
fellow-foxes to follow the newly imported fashion. An Eng- 
lishman dwells on his dinner, like an enraptured lover on a 
kiss, and wishes to force all the world into acknowledging 
the same ecstatic bliss in its enjoyment. Because he him- 
self is transported by the excitement of eating, he would 
have every body else experience the same table enthusiasm. 

A common charge against Americans is their " excessive 
love of money," and "inordinate greediness for gain." We 
sometimes " talk of dollars" in America, and are actually 
guilty of exerting ourselves to make them. What presump- 
tion in Republicans ! Trying to attain that which consti- 
tutes the power of the English aristocracy. If making 
money had been a crime, the present nobility of England 
would have all been residents of New South Wales — as their 
ancestors would undoubtedly have been transported thither. 
What was it that made most of their progenitors worthy of 



136 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

being ennobled ? What is it that sustains the importance 
of the present nobility — but money 1 And how was this 
vital spark of aristocracy originally acquired unless it was 
worked for % A few noble families, 'tis true, owe their wealth 
to what in England is considered the rare good fortune of 
having the illegimate sons of a king for ancestors. A still 
smaller number are indebted for their importance to the 
plunder of Saxon churls by Norman invaders. But the 
large majority of the founders of the present titled families 
of Grreat Britain must have toiled most manfully for the for- 
tunes, which formed the basis of their earliest distinction. 
The 430 noble personages of England give tone to public 
sentiment, — they think — they speak — they act for the nation. 
The great mass of the people have no opinion — no voice of 
their own. And when the nobility inveigh against those 
attempting to make fortunes, the entire people echo the sage 
sentiment — but none so noisily as the merchants and trades- 
men, who have already, by dint of struggling and hoarding, 
become rich enough to retire from business, and entertain 
vague hopes of being ennobled some day themselves. 

These 430 drones, hiving on the wealth which the labor 
of others has amassed, never omit an opportunity of sneering 
at those engaged in the acquisition of riches. Enjoying in- 
comes themselves of from fifty thousand to three millions of 
dollars, they can well afford to condemn money-making as 
unworthy. And all the rich citizens and popular journals 
cry "hear ! hear !" as if an oracle had spoken. No pursuit 
is dishonorable, unless the object pursued be base. And if 
money-making, in some honorable occupation, be so shame- 
fully unworthy, then the nobility must be the quintessence 
of baseness, for money, as I said before, gives vital power to 
their order. What would they be without it ? What is a 
title, without a fortune to maintain it? A mockery, which 
the very mob hoots at. But notwithstanding their ostenta- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 137 

tious professions of contempt for lucre, the aristocracy know 
the real value of money, and are jealous that people beyond 
their own circle should possess it. Hence their zeal to con- 
vince the world, that any active pursuit, in which money is 
to be made, is dishonorable. To rival them in fortune is to 
share their power, — to surpass them, would be to destroy 
their present monopoly of influence. Is it surprising then, 
that they should constantly cause crusades to be preached 
against money-making ? What could be more absurd, than 
this pretended indifference to money, and contempt for its 
seekers ? 

When money-making is confined to the sordid passion 
of accumulation, when the wretched miser pinches himself 
and grinds every body else to enjoy the mean gratification 
of gloating over heaps of shining metal, I cordially assent 
to the strictures, which in all countries and every age have 
been passed on avarice. But so far from this most degraded 
of passions being common in America, our citizens are too often 
destitute of a becoming sense of economy, and run into the 
other extreme of extravagance. It is true that almost every 
one in America is engaged in some active pursuit. In a 
country yet young, and almost entirely deficient in those 
convenient haunts for idlers, the parks, the clubs, the drives, 
the promenades, and all the possible varieties of amusement, 
even those who could live without it, seek occupation as a 
source of enjoyment. We cannot escape the original curse 
that man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow ; 
exertion of some sort is essential to existence, and no man 
can be contented, unless he is, or imagines himself to be, em- 
ployed. I cannot conceive a more dreary sort of existence 
than a mere idler in most portions of America, deprived as 
he is of the elegant means of killing time, which are provided 
for the various aristocracies of Europe. Yet many, with 
mistaken notions of aristocracy, submit to the penance of 



138 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

idleness, in order to appear genteel. - If gentility can pre- 
sent no higher claims to consideration, I fear it will never 
flourish in America. What could be more ridiculous than 
a man's boring himself by doing nothing, merely to ape the 
aristocratic indolence of the nobility of Europe, where the 
idlest of men can be the most busily engaged in the count- 
less pleasures which surround him 1 But that Americans are 
generally so wedded to business as to have no time for the 
ordinary enjoyments of life, is glaringly untrue. We con- 
stantly find them indulging in those more refined pleasures 
which are only enjoyed by the strictly aristocratic circles of 
England. Money is only valuable to them on account of 
the comforts and the enjoyments it procures. Large for- 
tunes by inheritance are comparatively unknown in America, 
the fathers of our Republic having overthrown the aristo- 
cratic law of primogeniture as inimical to our institutions. 
Almost every man with us must start in life with the manly 
consciousness that he has his own fortune to make. And 
any young gentleman who is so verdant as to doubt that 
" ready money " is " Aladdin's lamp," should be sent to Eng- 
land to complete his education. When he witnesses the 
miracles it works there, his skepticism will be removed I 
am very sure. One distinguished bard has declared that 
" love rules the camp, the court, the grove." But Byron, 
more familiar with the domestic economy of Great Britain, 
says, that " cash rules love, the ruler," and therefore rules 
the world. 

The young men of most wealthy families in America are 
reared with tastes that their inheritances cannot support. 
But those young Americans who are prepared by education 
and early association for the enjoyment of the luxurious in- 
dulgences which fortune only can procure, not being so lucky 
us the youthful nobles of England, who have their fortunes 
ready made to their hands, must strike boldly out, and labor 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 139 

for the means of indulging the elegant tastes of educated re- 
finement. And the snob who is so snobbish as to sneer at 
a young gentleman so engaged, deserves to be crowned chief 
of the fraternity. But although young Americans exert 
themselves with laudable energy in the acquisition of fortune, 
yet they spend it with a liberality altogether unknown in 
England. I have closely observed my countrymen both at 
home and abroad, and I have invariably found them living 
with a profusion far surpassing that of the moneyed circles 
of Great Britain of ten times their income. So far are they 
from deserving the oft-repeated charge of sordid meanness, 
that their liberality in proportion to their resources would 
be condemned in England as reprehensible extravagance. 

But this very objectionable mania for lucre, of which 
Englishmen so unjustly accuse us, is not only prevalent in 
their own middle classes, but is found in its most animated 
perfection among the nobility themselves. Those who have 
the candor to inquire, will find the commercial circles of 
Great Britain so inveterately wedded to their business as to 
be deprived of all those enlightened amusements which even 
ordinary wealth could procure them. They allow their 
dreams of riches to be interrupted by no pleasing relaxations, 
except equally halcyon visions of dinner. They are not 
satisfied with a competent independence. They persevere 
in slaving and hoarding, till they have amassed a fortune im- 
mensely greater than is ever enjoyed by Americans, except 
in extremely isolated cases. Buried in the dark lanes of 
" the city," they are as integral portions of their counting- 
rooms as the high stools or the iron safe. They hear no 
news but the rise and fall in stocks, and have no conversa- 
tion except on the past and probable variations in the price 
of " stuff." They read no books but the ledger, and feel no 
interest in any thing but their cash. When that " balances," 
they are as happy as their natures are capable of being. 



140 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

The interior of a theatre is wholly unknown to them, ? 
an opera is something they have yet to hear. Their id( ' 
of amusement are concentrated in the occult science ^ 
" book-keeping by double entry." Their only excitement i; 
counting money — their only grief is its loss. They go to 
church to carry their wife's prayer book, and sum up lo'"'" 
calculations of last week's profits. The disturbances 
France are only regarded as active causes of depression l i 
public credit and the price of rich silks. " The summary ' 
by the last steamer from America possesses no charm for 
them beyond the probable decline of cotton, or a reported 
advance in pork. Their education consists in writing a round, 
commercial hand, calculating compound interest, and being 
able to cipher in " the double rule of three." They never 
bother their heads by conjectures as to whether the earth is 
square or oblong ; they know nothing, and care less, about 
the motions of the heavenly bodies, except that the decl 
ing sun indicates the hour for going to dinner ; they ha'*- 
no intercourse with their fellow-beings beyond the forma' 
ties of a business transaction ; and were never known t 
manifest a friendship except for the warehouse cat ; they ha^ 
no time to talk, and never write except on business ; a' 
hours are " office hours " to them, except those they devote 
to dinner and to sleep ; they know nothing, they love notb 
ing, and hope for nothing beyond the four walls of their 
counting-room ; nobody knows them, nobody loves them ; 
they are too mean to make friends, and too silent to mak 
acquaintances ; they are as methodical, as uninteresting tt: 
their own day-book ; their only aim in life is to mal 
money ; their only exertion is to avoid spending it ; a.' 
when, in the decline of a life of privations, they do retire 1 .^^ 
the harassing toils of business, it is to grumble in monosv^ 
bic spleen at their superiors, and to make ostentatious dona- 
tions to charitable institutions, for which they are never 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 141 

'vanked ; they sink into the grave unloved and unmourned. 
.v^'-aving a vast fortune to some selfish son, who has all his 
l^e been ashamed of his father, and will use his money to 
^^urchase a position from which he may look down with scorn 
on all merchants and tradespeople. I am not surprised 
,tjbat English exclusives should sneer at the commercial 
£^asses of America, if they imagine that our merchants re- 
^gmble their own. 

" „ The same grasping greediness is constantly manifested 
by the nobility, notwithstanding their enormous fortunes by 
inheritance. There is no office they will not sue for — no po- 
sition they will not accept, which gives promise of profit. 
The ermined robe of a Peer, like the blue gown in Scot- 
land, confers on its lucky wearer the privileges of a licensed 
beggar. This is no ordinary advantage in a country where 
5Jpmmon beggars are so severely punished. The sinecure 
dtions under government, and the pension lists, are the 
nopr-house unions, established for the accommodation of 

pble mendicants. In their applications for " relief," their 

xiprdships unite the whining perseverance of the ordinary 

auper, with the sturdy intrepidity of the highwayman. 

i'he vile street-beggars may be summarily disposed of, and 
.he white-waistcoated citizen never hesitates to relieve himself 

jad the public from their importunities, by depositing in- 
fqrmation at the police office. But unfortunately there is 
u:^ aristocratic house of correction, to which importunate 
ryoibles may be consigned, when they become troublesome in 
stre'^ applications. Partly by urgent solicitation, and partly 
^pertinacious bullying, they generally obtain what they 

'(lire from government, however unreasonable and incon- 

T,v * at their demands may be. Search through the profit- 

o sinecures and the oppressive pensions, and you will find 

ohem all monopolized by their noble Lordships themselves. 

n-xamine the army and navy lists, and it will be seen 



142 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

that the commissions in the Royal regiments, with high pay 
and nothing to do, and the prominent commands in the naval 
service, which justly belong to older and abler sailors, have 
all been appropriated to the support of their Lordships' sons. 
They deem it a stain on a noble escutcheon to engage in 
any active occupation, however respectable, but they seem to 
be conveniently destitute of scruples about becoming pen- 
sioners upon the strained charities of an over-taxed people. 

But in searching for examples of the voracity displayed 
by rich Britons in keeping all they have, and clutching at 
more, we need not descend lower than the palace. The 
proud court of England's Queen affords the most startling 
instances of the national vice. That kingdom is deemed 
happiest, whose monarch adopts the sentiments, and prac- 
tises the customs of the people. England should be very 
happy in her Queen. In her evident appreciation of money, 
Her Majesty is peculiarly successful in adapting her own 
taste to that of her subjects. 

The English nation, in order to support the dignity of 
their royal ruler, annually appropriate the very inconsider- 
able sum of $1,925,000. It is to be hoped that the people 
are amused by the regal rattle, since they are compelled to 
pay so dearly for it. After meeting every possible expense 
she might chance to be subjected to in her domestic arrange- 
ments and her public duties, they contribute $300,000 as 
pin-money to the Queen. In addition to this snug little 
sum, she enjoys $70,000 from the Duchy of Lancaster, and 
derives $60,000 more from pickings, in various quarters. 
During the minority of the Prince of Wales, she possesses 
entire control over his Duchy of Cornwall, and the right 
to use the $190,000 yielded by the principality, after the 
deduction of salaries, expenses, and allowances to its nu- 
merous officers. Every personal want is considered and 
every public emergency provided for, when the ministers an- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 143 

nuallj present the budget to Parliament. Every possible 
public and private expenditure of the Queen is paid from 
the vast sum of $1,625,000 appropriated by parliament for 
that purpose. Yet, in addition, she has her inn-money^ 
$300,000, which is granted by parliament ; she has the $260,- 
000 produced by the two Duchies, and the $60,000 derived 
from other sources, making in all the vast sum of $620,000, 
which the Queen receives annually as her private pocket- 
money, besides the $1,625,000 devoted to her support. 
When it is remembered that every article of apparel she 
wears and every meal she takes — that all the equipages and 
horses she owns — that her servants, her furniture, her trav- 
elling expenses, and her palaces, are all provided for from the 
immense sums allotted by the government to the support of 
the different departments of her household, the question 
naturally arises, what can she do with the $620,000 which 
she receives independent of all expenses % That this sum is 
exhausted, 'tis our duty to believe, since we shall see that 
the Queen appropriated a small public fund, which should 
have been sacred even in the eyes of Royalty, to charities 
to her own personal favorites. Though her profusion should 
equal Caligula's, and -she should amuse herself by seeing the 
mob scramble for her largesses, it would yet seem strange 
that in one year she could squander so immense a sum, in 
addition to the million and a half of dollars appropriated 
to her support. But the question is of money. Remember 
that lucre is the subject of surmise, and the mystery is solved. 
The Queen would be unjust to herself and insulting to her 
people, should she display a careless indifference to what 
they so highly prize. She would prove recreant to the duties 
of her position, did she not carefully hoard what every Eng- 
lishman guards more tenderly than England's honor or his 
own. 

This wonderful people of England, after having so mag- 



144 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

nificently provided for their Queen, generously set aside the 
enormous sum of $6,000, to be distributed among such in- 
dividuals who have by their talents or scientific attainments 
deserved "the gratitude of the country." It is an eloquent 
commentary on the amount of intellect existing at present 
in England, that all the men of genius and learning in the 
kingdom are estimated by parliament at one-fiftieth part of 
the importance of Her Majesty's pin-money. If the tal- 
ents of the nation 7}iust be rated and are rated so low, is it 
surprising that the standard of intellect should sink ? Ought 
it to seem strange that the present race of Englishmen are 
so much more expert with their knives and forks than their 
pens ? — that their tongues are so much more happily em- 
ployed in mastication than in eloquence? 

Even we Republicans are accustomed to associate the 
highest degree of magnificence and liberality with the title 
of King. We are familiar from our infancy with " royal 
munificence " and "princely generosity" as figures of speech 
conveying ideas of superlative profusion. Queen Victoria 
seems by no means insensible of the ordinary attributes of 
royalty, but entertains somewhat original notions of the 
manner of displaying them. She is very charitable, but is 
rather peculiar in being so at other people's expense. She 
appears to think, that as her ministers must bear the odium 
attached to the unpopular acts of the crown, the people ought 
to sustain the expense of such deeds as might win for it 
popularity. She being the acknowledged head of the Brit- 
ish nation, her munificence must necessarily reflect honor on 
them, and they should be but too happy to pay for it. 

Although I have shown that the Queen is in the yearly 
receipt of $1,625,000, and has a privy purse of $620,000 
per annum, yet when she desired to manifest her substantial 
gratitude to her seven private teachers, she boldly quartered 
them on the public, and granted them all pensions of $500 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 145 

apiece, out of the pitiful fund appropriated for needy au- 
thors, "who had deserved the gratitude of the country." 
The mere fact of these persons having been the instructors 
of the Queen would, in a country like England, have given 
them all a far greater number of the wealthiest scholars 
than they could possibly have attended to, and must have 
placed them, not only far above want, but in affluent circum- 
stances. But even supposing those worthy people to have 
been in need of the royal bounty, would it not have been in 
better taste, to say nothing of regal munificence, to have 
supplied their wants from her own privy purse, rather than 
misapply a large portion of a fund, which the people had 
appropriated for the benefit of such of themselves who had 
rendered important services to their country ? 

It is true, that this squad of fortunate foreigners had 
imparted to the Queen some knowledge of the pretty little 
accomplishments of their respective countries. But by what 
ingenious interpretation of the act they could be numbered 
among those " who had deserved the gratitude of the coun- 
try," it would be somewhat difficult to determine. If en- 
abling Queen Victoria to strum by rote one of Strauss's 
waltzes on the piano, or to hop through a polka, with ease to 
herself and satisfaction to her partner, could be properly 
placed in the category of eminent services to the state, these 
whiskerandoes had deserved the gratitude of the country ; 
and by a forced interpretation of the act, might have been 
pensioned from this fund. But it seems to me that these 
elegant pastimes being much more amusing to the Queen 
than useful to her subjects, she should have rewarded her 
seven faithful teachers from her own ample privy purse of 
$620,000, and not arbitrarily mounted them on the shoul- 
ders of the already overloaded public. If these pensions 
were intended, as mementoes of affectionate remembrance to 
her different instructors, would they not have been much more 



146 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

acceptable if generously bestowed by herself, instead of 
being forced from the public 1 During this year $3,500 
of the magnificent literary fund were consumed by fiddlers 
and singers, whilst the dazzling sum of $1,500 was left 
to be divided among all the genius and learning of Great 
Britain. The grant of these pensions was made 23d July, 
1840, Viscount Melbourne being Premier. 

As an evidence of the rare discrimination displayed by 
Her Majesty, in the appreciation of merit, I beg leave to re- 
fer to the pension of $500 to Peter Warren Dease, Esq., 
'' chief factor in the service of the Hudson Bay Company ; 
in consideration of the personal danger and fatigue under- 
gone by him, in geographical discoveries on the Northern 
coast of America." '-Granted March 17th, 1841, Viscount 
Melbourne, Premier." Mr. Dease, for his useful geographi- 
cal discoveries, is honored by being raised to the level of 
Her Majesty's dancing-master. Such extraordinary acute- 
ness in determining the degrees in which persons had 
deserved the gratitude of their country, justly entitles 
Queen Victoria to the thankful acknowledgments of her 
subjects, and should reconcile them to the burthen of the 
seven private teachers. 

During another year Her Gracious Majesty made two 
grants, within five months of each other, from this identical 
literary fund, of $2,500 each, to Mademoiselle Augusta Em- 
ma D'Este, the illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Sussex, 
" in consideration of her just claims on the Boyal benefi- 
cence." His Royal Highness of Sussex married Lady Au- 
gusta Murray, the daughter of the Earl of Dunmore, at 
Borne, and afterwards in London, in 1793. The issue of 
this union were a son and daughter ; but the marriage was 
dissolved as contrary to the Boyal Marriage Act, in 1794 ; 
thus unfortunately for them bastardizing both of their chil- 
dren. This was the misfortune, not the fault of Maderaoi- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON" AMERICA. 147 

selle. And every voice must have approved the munificence 
of the sovereign, had she granted a pension to her unfortunate 
cousin from her enormous privy purse. But Her Gracious 
Majesty resolved to he generous and unjust, to be charitable 
and prudent, and boldly appropriated to her own private use, in 
a pension to Mademoiselle D'Este, $5,000 of the $6,000 intend- 
ed for poor authors. The reputation for charity, acquired at 
the expense of justice and honor, would scarcely add to the 
list of the Queen's reputed virtues. Such profusion could not 
readily be mistaken for liberality. Upon such terms, any one 
could afford to appear generous who was unscrupulous 
enough to appropriate what did not belong to him. as the 
means of making the display. 

This daring proceeding was not only a violation of the 
rights of the people, whom she professed to govern according 
to a free constitution, but it was in open opposition to the 
laws, which it was her sworn duty to see executed. For 
Mademoiselle D'Este could not advance even the imaginary 
claims of the Queen's teachers to the gratitude of the coun- 
try. What had she done, that this sacred fund should be 
squandered in her behalf? No one can hereafter doubt the 
properest possible appreciation of the value of money in 
Her Majesty, when she would so fearlessly disregard public 
opinion, in order to preserve intact her own darling privy 
purse. After such indubitable evidence of the Queen's 
ability to take care of her own funds, it seems somewhat ex- 
travagant to pay Col. Phipps $10,000 to take care of them 
for her. $10,000 to "the keeper of Her Majesty's privy 
purse ! " What a commentary in the very name of the of- 
fice upon the abuses under the English government ! The 
first pension was granted to Mademoiselle D'Este 5th 
March, 1845, the second, 28th July, 1845, Sir Robert Peel 
being Premier. The fact of its being notorio^\is, that she 
was then engaged to be married to Sir Thomas Wilde, who 



148 - ENGLISH ITEMS. 

was annually in receipt of $40,000 as Lord Chief Justice of 
the Court of Common Pleas, in addition to his enormous 
private fortune, accumulated in his profession, made the 
outrage of these pensions the more glaring. And, although 
she was married within six weeks after the last grant, no in- 
timation of a desire to return the $5,000 a year to the much 
abused fund has ever been made, notwithstanding the im- 
mense revenues of her husband. 

A pension of $2,000 to the Baroness Lehzen was granted 
24th Sept., 1842, Sir Robert Peel, Premier. The Baroness, 
for a long period, during the minority of Her Majesty, was 
her private secretary and confidential attendant. Her 
faithful services and constant devotion to the Queeh 
may have deserved some lasting mark of her appreciation, 
but to provide for her from this fund, intended for poor 
authors, and the useful laborers for the public weal, evinced 
a wanton contempt of law, whose enormity far surpassed that 
of the other two instances, given above. 

It was but natural that Queen Victoria, having grown 
up under the eye of Baroness Lehzen, should regard her 
with the sincerest affection. Their associations were of the 
most intimate character, and their attachment mutual. As 
Her Majesty's confidence in her friend was unlimited, it was 
not extraordinary that she regarded the opinions of the 
Baroness with deferential respect. But, although there is 
no evidence that the Baroness ever exerted her great influ- 
ence for purposes of political intrigue, yet the people, always 
jealous of foreign interference, became alarmed. It was 
soon whispered that the Baroness exercised a sway in the 
Queen's Councils, inconsistent with British interests. The 
murmurs swelled into clamor, and the three kingdoms re- 
sounded wjth discontent. The universal disapprobation was 
too boldly expressed, for the power even of the Queen long 
to protect her favorite. Deeply attached as she undoubtedly 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 149 

was to the Baroness, and wilful as she had ever been in tri- 
fles, she lacked the moral courage to resist the common wish 
of all classes of the nation. The obnoxious favorite was, 
therefore, gently dismissed from court, and escorted into a 
sort of honorable exile in Germany. But at parting, she 
received from the poor mutilated literary fund a nice little 
token of the Queen's regard and regret, in the shape of a 
pension of $2,000 a year. A fugitive from the resentment 
of an indignant people, she was yet permitted to bear off, in 
triumph, this substanlial evidence of " the gratitude of the 
country." The people might very cheerfully have given 
$2,000 a year during her lifetime, to get rid of her ; but to 
quarter her on this fund, so positively provided for those 
whose talents or services had been useful to the state, re- 
quired the ingenuity, as well as the power of a sovereign. 
Hers was not the negative position of Mademoiselle D'Este. 
She was not simply without claims, but she was notoriously 
odious to all classes of the people. Yet, in the Queen's 
anxiety to save her own money, she was rewarded in a way 
which announced to the world that she had deserved their 
warmest gratitude. Does it not seem incredible that the 
Queen's annual income is $2,245,000 ? By what epithet 
can impartial historians in times to come chai;acterize such 
a transaction 7 The pension to Mademoiselle D'Este was a 
contemptuous disregard of her subjects' rights ; the one to 
Baroness Lehzen was an insulting mockery of their helpless- 
ness. Although I am examining the conduct of the Queen 
in her official capacity, I cannot forget that she is a woman, 
and gallantry restrains me from the expression of feelings, 
which such proceedings naturally excite. These are not 
isolated examples of outrage, which I have given, as they 
will find who will take the trouble of examining the pension 
list for themselves, but are fair illustrations of the strictly 
impartial manner in which the rewards of literary merit are 
dispensed by Her Majesty. 



160 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Prince Albert enjoys a rather- comfortable sort of income 
of S300,000 a year. $150,000 are appropriated by Parlia- 
ment ; the other half he receives as jobbing colonel of regi- 
ments he does not command — ranger of parks he never en- 
ters — governor of castles he never sees — and fancy-farmer 
on land for which he pays no rent. Not the least consider- 
able of these profitable sundries is the Flemish farm, which 
is not only very profitable to His Royal Highness, but is 
enjoyed rent-free. Possessing an income, more than four 
times as large as those of all the governors of all the States 
of our Union together, and being besides one of those rarely 
lucky fellows, who get their board and washing for nothing, 
it appears presumable that Prince Albert might gratify 
" his modest little wants " without the necessity of sordid 
savings. But such seems from the archives of the country 
not to be the case. Although his chief items of expense may 
be enumerated under the heads of bouquets and white kid 
gloves for levees — cocked hats and top-boots for reviews — 
and Macassar oil and Lubin's perfumes for " private draw- 
ing-rooms ;" yet the consumption of these articles must be 
prodigious, as the Prince seems reluctant to pay the only 
debt which even the noblest Englishman cannot shirk — his 
taxes. When called upon by the tax-collector, he meanly 
skulked behind the petticoats of his wife, to avoid the pay- 
ment of his taxes for the Flemish farm. He declared that 
he never occupied the farm without Her Majesty, and that 
therefore he was exempted from the payment of taxes. On 
this trivial pretext he was allowed to escape. It is difficult 
to determine which is worthier of contempt, the Prince who 
could stoop to so mean an outrage, or the nation who would 
submit to it. An inexorable government enforces its de- 
mands from the neediest freeholder, even to selling the pet 
pig, or family cow. A Prince is exempted from the pay- 
ment of his legal taxes, because there is no officer with the 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 151 

moral courage to arraign him. Alas ! for the majesty of 
law in England ! How Justice has been shorn of her 
glories since the days when the madcap hero of Agincourt 
could so -meekly bow to her decrees. The nation could not 
now exclaim with Henry IV. : " Happy is the King with a 
Judge bold enough to execute the laws, and a son magnani- 
mous enough to submit to them." England has been pro- 
lific in Princes : she has produced but one Sir William Gas- 
coigne. The proud dignity with which the venerable Chief 
Justice resented the blow received from the mad Prince 
Hal, by committing him to prison, gave an illustrious prece- 
dent to the Judges of England. But the days are passed 
for such precedents to be remembered. The ermine, which 
clothes the back, has enervated the soul of British Justice — 
her heart will soften to maudlin weakness towards any one 
who sports the spotted fur. What common subject of 
Britain could with impunity have set at defiance the laws 
of the land, and escaped the payment of his taxes, upon such 
absurd pretences ? His Royal Highness was not satisfied 
with the possession of this farm rent-free, to add to his al- 
ready swollen revenues. Being husband to the Queen, he 
had the power to avoid the expense of taxes, and he had 
been too long in England not to do so. He never occupied 
the farm without the Queen, and he was therefore not sub- 
ject to be taxed. This was the truth, but not " the whole 
truth ;" for probably neither one of them ever did, or ever 
would, occupy the premises a night during their lives. 
But the Prince pocketed the profits of the farm — and as a 
subject of the realm he was bound, both by honor and law, 
to pay his taxes. " The True British Farmer," as he affect- 
edly styles himself, forgets the first principle which actuates 
every honest tiller of the soil. He has but a poor concep- 
tion of his assumed character of a farmer, when he know- 
ingly sullies his honor. But is such miserable prevarica- 



152 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

tion as Prince Albert's, worthy of a man who should give 
tone to the most honorable circles of Great Britain ? Is it 
becoming in the first subject of a great kingdom, to set such 
an example of defiance to the laws, in order to escape this 
paltry tribute to a government which had shown such muni- 
ficence towards him ? And yet Prince Albert would be 
foremost among his titled parasites, in railing at all those 
who were endeavoring by honorable means to make a for- 
tune. One might conclude from this brilliant evidence of 
financial tact, that His Royal Highness was eminently 
qualified for the lucrative and highly honorable ofl&ce of 
" Keeper of Her Majesty's privy purse." He certainly 
displays the sordid wisdom of saving in a sufficient degree 
to draw the purse-strings tightly enough. And as some- 
body must receive the salary of $10,000, I am somewhat 
surprised, in remembering the acquisitive propensities of the 
family, that so fat a sum should be allowed to pass into the 
hands of strangers. The Royal consort seems troubled for 
a want of something to do, notwithstanding his extremely 
important functions at reviews and levees. The supervision 
of that precious purse might have aff"orded him some healthier 
mental occupation, than growing mammoth gooseberries, and 
inventing bad hats. But I suppose it was considered un- 
worthy of the dignity of His Royal Highness to write the 
checks, which is the only duty which the keeper of the privy 
purse is ever called on to perform. The notions of Eng- 
lishmen on many subjects are peculiar ; for instance — re- 
sorting to a mean subterfuge in order to save a few paltry 
pounds of taxes, was not deemed unbecoming in the Royal 
Drone. But the slightest blot of ink, acquired in so busi- 
ness an operation as writing checks, would have polluted 
the immaculate purity of the Royal digits — and was not 
therefore to be thought of Such is the absurd supersti- 
tion of Aristocracy in England. 



• ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 153 

After such developments, where is the toady so daringly' 
unscrupulous, as to express a doubt of Prince Albert's keen 
appreciation of money ? An allusion to the Flemish farm 
must silence the most brawling bigot of them all. Every 
unprejudiced mind must be convinced that, although the 
Prince speaks the English language with an accent, he is 
too thoroughly English in his feelings, not to be endued 
with the national weakness for lucre. How else can we ac- 
count for his extraordinary course with regard to the farm ? 
I would not voluntarily ascribe to the Prince an excess of 
wilful depravity. I cannot believe that he refused to pay 
his taxes, merely to enjoy the luxury of unparalleled base- 
ness. Charity bids us to conclude, that he did not love 
honor less, but money more. 

Butj after all, when we remember the mean state of de- 
pendence in which Prince Albert is kept by the nation, as 
husband to their Queen, his reckless disregard of his repu- 
tation as a gentleman is, perhaps, more deserving of pity 
than scorn. Long-continued subjection, even to the thral- 
dom of a petticoat, will in time destroy that proud feeling 
of independence, and chivalric sense of honor, so essential 
to manhood. Without duties or position — without honor or 
consideration, except what he borrows from his wife — in- 
debted even for what he eats, and what he wears, to her 
bounty, it is not very extraordinary that His Royal High- 
ness should be oppressed by a feeling of his own insignifi- 
cance. A man should confer honor on his wife, as the sun 
lends light to the moon — not borrow it from her. He c^- 
not change positions with her without being degraded. He 
loses all the dignity of his sex, when he sinks into the mere 
husband of his wife. The silken collar of matrimony must 
gall under such circumstances, and the necessity which com- 
pels any husband to wear it " cows within him the better part 
of man." He at once becomes as contemptible in his own 



154 ENGLISH ITEMS. • 

eyes, as he appears despicable to other people. The sense 
of degradation often urges men into excesses they might not 
otherwise commit. The Prince may feel his humiliation 
more keenly than is generally supposed. He may be less 
anxious about the future ojDinions of the world, when he re- 
members what they must think of him now. He may be 
desperate, from the consciousness that his present position 
leaves him no honor to preserve. A debased spirit may 
safely burrow in the sordid recesses of avarice. 

It is true that the huge pyramid of despotism which 
overshadowed Great Britain during the middle ages, has 
long since been demolished. But its ruins are still thickly 
strewn through her social condition. And in nothing can 
its former vastness be so distinctly traced, as in that relic 
of barbarism, ycleped the '• Queen's Household." Although 
these household positions have no longer attached to them 
the magnificence which made them respectable, nor the duties 
which rendered them necessary, yet their names and their 
salaries are still preserved, at the same time, a mockery 
and a burthen to the people. But the sovereign and the 
nobility are solemnly leagued against their abolition. It is 
snobbish in the monarch to be tickled by the names — it is 
weak in the people to pay the salaries of these oppressive 
sinecures. The real object of their continuance appears to 
be, to put money in the purses of the already enormously 
rich aristocracy ; and as, at the same time, the sovereign's 
ideas of his own importance are comfortably inflated by the 
presence of so many idle servants, the murmurs of the people 
will avail little against such a combination of interests. It 
is a condescension unworthy the theory of nobility, for its 
members to accept positions which even in name are servile 
— but how shall I describe the sordid instinct, which prompts 
them to pocket the pitiful price of their dishonor ? These 
salaries, although they must appear contemptible to them, 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 155 

when compared with their own overgrown incomes, yet, 
taken together, form a serious oppression to the people. 

The aristocracy contend that this formidable array of 
titled lackeys is necessary to sustain the dignity of the 
crown. But if they were sincerely solicitous about the 
pomp of royalty, the absurd superstitions of rank in Eng- 
land would enable them, at the same time, to amuse the 
monarch by the presence of these noble servitors, and to 
relieve the people from the expense of them. For the im- 
aginary distinction arising from these hireling positions, the 
advantages of being fed and lodged free of expense in the 
palace, and of taking part in all the exclusive enjoyments 
of the court, would create among the highest nobility an 
eager contest for their enjoyment, although no pay were 
attached to them. But the grasping greediness of " the 
order " forbids so equable a compromise. Their Lordships 
cannot occupy even honorary sinecures without a remunera- 
tion. They pocket '' what not enriches them," but makes 
the people "poor indeed." The Marquis of Exeter receives, 
as Lord Chamberlain, $10,000, and the Duke of Montrose 
$10,000 more as Lord Steward. The Earl of Jersey, as 
Master of the Horse, pockets $12,500, and the Duchess of 
AthoU, as the Mistress of the Robes, receives $2,500. 

The venal eulogists of the British oligarchy must search 
in vain, through their bulky annals, for a single example of 
disinterested service to their country. I fear eighteen more 
centuries must elapse before a noble Englishman will be 
found to imitate the magnanimity of our Bepublican Wash- 
ington, in declining the emoluments of his office. The re- 
fusal of money due him, even to win a name in history, 
seems a sacrifice an Englishman is altogether unequal to. 
Indeed, patriotism has become a profitable branch of trade 
in England, in which many dabble on a small scale, and a 
few are brilliantly successful What bubble scheme, or rail- 



156 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

road speculation ever proved so profitable to their origina- 
tors, as the patriotism of Marlborough, Nelson, and Wel- 
lington. The profits of Law, or " Railroad King Hudson," 
were insignificant in comparison. Besides the distinguished 
patriots had divers and sundry monuments thrown in for 
good conduct. The royal family and the no.bility have 
always been eager to sustain a lofty pre-eminence in the 
opinions of the people. It is alike their ambition and their 
interest to appear the elect of God's anointed. To stalk 
through life, as a superior race of superior beings, with supe- 
rior instincts and propensities, is the difl&cult part they have 
assumed. Is it to be presumed, then, that, with such aspi- 
rations, they would willingly betray to the multitude the 
earthliest of earthly passions — a love of lucre ? A mounte- 
bank would as soon expose his tricks, or an impostor confess 
his impositions. But their sordid inclinations have proved 
more powerful than their solitary ambition to appear supe- 
rior to their fellows. Mammon has shown himself stronger 
than pride. 

When we see the Queen violating the laws to protect 
her privy purse, and the Prince consort stooping to dis- 
honor to save his taxes — when we find their Lordships 
scrambling for rich sinecures, and their honorable ofi"spring 
monopolizing all the most profitable positions in the army 
and navy — when we know that the wealthiest nobles of the 
country, in assuming menial positions, become indued with 
a menial's weakness for wages, and take hire for idly loiter- 
ing about the palace, it is but reasonable to conclude that 
the English aristocracy are not wholly insensible to the 
charms of money. 

I believe that I have established the principle ; for its 
action I refer my readers to the following extracts from 
English papers : 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 15*7 

The Aristocracy and Cab-drivers. — At the Marl borough-street 
Court, on Tuesday, a cabman was fined 40s., for behaving with vio- 
lence at the house of Sir R. Peel. The defendant wanted 2s. Ad. as his 
fare for driving Sir Robert from the Brighton Railway to Pall-mall 
(which must be three miles), while Sir Robert would only give him 2s. 
The latter was said to be the legal fare.^ — At the same court, on Wed- 
nesday, Earl Fitzhardinge summoned T. Jones, driver and proprietor of 
a cab, for causing an obstruction in Davies-street, by loitering and wilful 
misbehavior. His lordship complained that the cab stood in the way 
of his carriage, and that, though the driver had no fare, he (his lordship) 
had to call out three times before the man would move. The driver 
told the magistrate that he was at Chiswick at the time. The groom, 
who confirmed Lord Fitzhardinge's statement throughout, when asked 
the number of the cab, said it was 2,326. The defendant's number 
being 2,336, the mistake was obvious. Earl Fitzhardinge said his im- 
pression was that the number of the cab was 2,336, but of coui'se he 
would not contend that he was not liable to mistake. The summons 
was ttien dismissed. — W. News. 

Fracas. — At the Marylebone Police-court, yesterday. Major Cooke, 
one of her Majesty's Gentlemen-at-Arms, was charged, before Mr. Long, 
with illegally detaining an umbrella, the alleged property of Dr. Pres- 
ton, M. D. Both are members of the Army and Navy Club. Mr. Long 
asked if the umbrella in question was produced, but was answered in 
the negative. A gentleman, who attended for complainant, entered 
into a statement of the facts, and, after proceeding for some time, Mr. 
Long said the simple question before him was, does Major Cooke detain 
the umbrella or does he not ? Cannot a matter like this be settled be- 
tween two gentlemen without going any farther ? Dr. Preston said, 
on the 13th January last he missed his umbrella from the outer hall of 
the club-house, and saw no more of it until the 8th ult,, when he saw 
it in the same place where he had left it, and took possession of it. On 
the same day. Major Cooke came into the room where he was seated, 
and claimed the umbrella as his, saying he had had it more than two 
yeai's. Major Cooke seized it out of his hand and broke it in two. The 
value was 12s. After a deal of evidence, pro and con., had been gone 
into respecting the identity of the umbrella, Mr. Long dismissed the 
summons, and said he regretted it had been brought there. — Post. 

When the wealthiest commoner in England sues a cabman 



158 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

for fourpence, and one gentleman accuses another of stealing 
his umbrella, and brings an action for the recovery of twelve 
shillings, its reputed value, no one can doubt that the sordid 
principle acts as smoothly as the American reaping tna- 
cUirie. 

It is a common habit with Englishmen to depreciate the 
intelligence, and ridicule the manners of the Americans, 
with whom chance brings them in contact, during their pere- 
grinations in Europe, and the East. I rarely met with a 
number of Gralignani's Messenger in which I did not find 
copied from English papers, some studied sneer at the igno- 
rance and vulgarity of American travellers. They seemed 
unable to understand how people, of the comparatively lim- 
ited fortunes of the Americans, could be actuated by a de- 
sire to see the world. They deemed it a much higher evidence 
of wisdom to remain quietly at home, and to spend their dol- 
lars in comfort and peace, than to go traipsing through strange 
cities, and foreign lands. They appear to regard travelling 
as one of the onerous necessities which pursue very rich 
men ; men whose incomes surpass the entire possessions of 
our wealthiest citizens. Such principles were no doubt well 
suited to the sordid disposition and sedentary habits of Eng- 
lishmen, but they but ill accorded with the enlightened en- 
ergy of Americans. I shall make no observations on the 
character of travellers one meets from our own country ; but 
I beg the indulgence of my readers, while I give some of 
my opinions and experience of the Englishmen I have met in 
my wanderings. 

An Englishman travels for no better reason than that 
everybody does so. He visits the various capitals of Europe, 
lounges through their picture galleries, and dozes over their 
ruins, as he drags through the classics, and takes a degree 
at college : his position in society demands it. With him 
travclliro: ir^ a ptunid dutv- and not the hiidiest of intellectual 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 159 

pleasures ; it is a necessary probation, which every English- 
man of a certain degree of wealth is condemned to pass 
through. lie submits to it as to any other inexorable ne- 
cessity, but manifests his dissatisfaction by grumbling sneers 
at every thing, from Paris to Jerusalem. The French don't 
know how to roast '• a joint," their conceptions of wash-ba- 
sins are altogether too contracted in Germany, he is fleeced 
by rascally dragomen at Constantinople, and finds nothing 
but fleas and discomfort in the Holy Land. He solemnly 
protests that he has seen nothing that it was possible for him 
to eat, since he left England ; and yet he retains hi^ scarlet 
hues, and corpulent tendencies, in a manner wonderfully 
mysterious, if we believe he has lived on air. In his accus- 
tomed potations of malt liquors, he is more fortunate, as his 
bullying complaints and noisy censure have stocked every 
hotel in the East with stale ale and muddy porter. 

He penetrates the parched depths of the desert to boast 
of having ridden a camel, and makes pilgrimages to the ho- 
liest spots, merely for the gratification of declaring his be- 
lief that they are not those which are designated in the 
Scriptures. It is fashionable in England to be skeptical 
about sacred localities ! He discredits the wonderful events 
which attended the exodus of the Jews from Egypt. He 
coolly argues the impossibility of the Children of Israel 
passing through the bed of the Ked Sea on dry land, and 
ridicules the idea of Moses' sweetening the waters of the 
bitter well of Marah, amidst the very scenes which witness- 
ed the accomplishment of these miracles. He journeys to 
Mount Sinai to sneer, and enters the Holy Land with no ho- 
lier motive than prompted young Sheridan to descend the 
coal-pit : merely to say he had been there. In a spot where 
I had thought that disbelief would be awed, and even blasphe- 
my silent, in the sacred grotto of Bethlehem, I have heard an 
Englishman utter rude and indecent jests about the Virgin 



160 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

and her child. I was not surprised that he went to Jerusa- 
lem, a confirmed follower of that reverend apostate, Clarke, 
who has attempted to derange all the received opinions, as 
to the scenes connected with the crucifixion and burial of 
our Saviour. If he sincerely believed that the spots, which 
have for more than a thousand years excited the religious 
enthusiasm, and received the pious adoration of pilgrims of 
every sect, were in no way connected with the death of Je- 
sus, then it was less impious for him to scoflF whilst standing 
onCalvary,and to laugh within the site of the Holy Sepulchre. 
Whut shall we say of the sacrilegious attempt of that 
worse than infidel to profane the Holy Places of our Faith ? 
Though they might not have been what they are believed to 
be, it was an inhuman deed to destroy so pure a super 
stition — they should have been sacred as symbols of our 
religion, which the common consent of fifteen centuries has re- 
garded as holy. Although Mr. Clarke had possessed positive 
proofs of their not being the scenes of our Saviour's death and 
burial, yet had he been as pious as he was desirous to appear 
learned, he would have spared them. Time and association 
have united in making them the most impressive emblems 
of the events they are designed to commemorate, and a sin- 
cere Christian could never have assailed their sanctity. Is 
the Lord's Supper to be considered as a less solemn rite of 
Christianity, because it is but the simple commemoration of 
His death 7 Are the wine and bread to be regarded as less 
holy, because they are not actually His blood and body ? 
But the reverend Mr. Clarke was not satisfied with demol- 
ishing that beauteous structure, which the faith of fifteen 
hundred years had been building up. His ambition aspired 
to the distinction of a theory of his own. He made him- 
self absurd by professing, after all the changes which time, 
and the different wars and dynasties, must have produced 
in the Holy City, to possess advantages for determining the 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 161 

sacred localities, very far superior to those enjoyed by St. 
Helena fifteen hundred years before. He did not simply 
deny the identity of the Holy Places, but had the audacity 
to select localities of his own. It would be difficult to dis- 
cover so extraordinary a combination of folly, vanity, and 
sacrilege, as that presented by this pedantic divine. A mon- 
ster so atrocious could only have been a Goth or an English- 
man. 

As our English acquaintance was an avowed disciple of 
Mr. Clarke, though he was a man of wealth and considera- 
tion at home — he was remotely and mysteriously connected 
with the Duke of Wellington — it was not surprising that he 
was not much impressed by a visit to the church of the Holy 
Sepulchre. But it is a little singular that the consciousness 
of being in Jerusalem, the unmistakable witness of so many 
extraordinary events, did not afford him some more appro- 
priate topics of conversation than insipid anecdotes of the 
English nobility and wearisome complaints of the hotel — its 
servants and its fare. He went every where, and apparently 
saw 'every thing, but as an evidence of how slightly he could 
have been interested in the sacred objects around him, he 
had been eight days in Jerusalem, and his trunks were 
packed for his departure the next morning, but he was not 
positive as to the location of the Mount of Olives. He often 
wondered at his own folly in venturing into a country where 
there was so much discomfort — where there was positively 
nothing to see and not much to eat. He candidly acknow- 
ledged, that hearing so many of his acquaintances boast of 
visiting Jerusalem, had betrayed him into the weakness of 
wishing to say that he had been there too. But that if he 
could be forgiven for his rashness in coming once, that he hoped 
some terrible calamity might befall him if he was ever caught 
east of Paris again. He never ventured on his impressions 
of what he visited, but once, when after his return from a 



162 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

visit to the river Jordan and the Dead Sea, he thought he 
had passed some place famous for some battle, he did not 
precisely know which, but he rather thought it was near the 
brook from which David took the pebbles to slay Groliath. 
And yet every body who had ever visited Syria, or read the 
briefest account of the country, ought to have known that the 
identical brook was in exactly the opposite direction. At 
parting, he was peculiarly considerate in his admonitions, 
and most earnestly insisted on our visiting Mount Carmel. 
" Omit what you like besides, but you must go there." 
"For," said he — and I waited, with breathless anxiety, a 
burst of enthusiasm about the desolate grandeur and religious 
associations of the place — " For," repeated he, " the only 
tolerable dinner I have had since I have been in Syria, was 
at the convent of Mount Carmel." Shade of Elijah hear 
him ! He had stood upon the sacred summit of Sinai — had 
ascended Mount Carmel — wandered along the banks of the 
stormy Jordan — visited Bethlehem — and was then in Jeru- 
salem — and the only treasured recollection he was carrying 
away with him from the Holy Land, was that of having en- 
joyed a passable dinner at Mount Carmel. The celebrated 
John Hunter stated, as a curious fact, that the jawbone 
always predominated in proportion to the absence of brains. 
As this was a scientific observation of the learned gentleman, 
it ought not to be wondered at, that the only thing in Syria 
which our Englishman was able to appreciate, was the fare 
at the Convent of Carmel. 

In mentioning the name of Grreece, I feel a momentary 
forgetfulness of the sterile subject I have selected for my 
book. I no longer remember either Englishmen or their 
country. The name of Greece recalls to me countless joyous 
memories and delicious associations. The season in which 
I visited it makes nature in any form enchanting. It was 
in early Spring, when the year is too young to know aught 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 163 

else but gladness and sunshine : wlien the verdure is all 
freshness, the flowers are all beauty, and the birds all song. 
I had never known before the pain of feeling all a poet's 
longings, without the genius to embody them into words. 
The torrents from Helicon and Parnassus were full, and 
foamed furiously by. Every plain was dotted with flowers : 
every bush had its nightingale. A visit to Greece had been 
a pet dream since my boyhood. But its associations, its 
ruins and its battle-fields were what I thought would charm 
me. I was not prepared for the rare beauty of scenery 
which greeted me. Its storied mountains, where the Muses 
wandered and Apollo sung, with their beetling crags and 
crowning firs, possessed all the wildness and picturesque 
beauty that Switzerland boasts. Its classic vales and im- 
mortal battle-fields, of which I had read earliest, and dreamed 
most, were strewn with wild flowers, — so fair, so frail, so va- 
ried, that the Muses might have discarded their laurel to 
have garlanded their tresses with such loveliness. And 
then the music of the nightingale ! But how shall I de- 
scribe what is indescribable 1 All the glowing enthusiasm 
of Oriental romance ; all that I had ever read of his poetic 
loves with the rose ; all that I had ever dreamed of the 
music of " bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair," which 
" makes heaven drowsy with the harmony," had given me 
no conception of the melody of the nightingale's song ; and, 
when heard for the first time in Grreece, by the side of a 
waterfall, with the beams of the full moon dancing in the 
spray, it aff'orded a ravishing delight I had never known be- 
fore, and fear I shall never know again. 

In Athens I met a couple of Englishmen, who proposed 
to join my party. As I was entirely alone, I, of course, 
consented, and we commenced a journey into the country 
together. I was somewhat shocked, in the beginning, by 
one of the gentlemen, who. in gazing for the last time upon 



1^4 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the Acropolis, crowned with the shattered glories of the 
Parthenon, could give utterance to no less commonplace ob- 
servation, than that Athens reminded him very much of 
"Edenboro'." But we jogged sociably on among classic 
ruins, glorious battle-fields, and sacred mountains, and paused 
at Helicon. I jumped from my horse, and eagerly traced 
Hippocrene's murmuring rill to its source. I could almost 
see the mark of Pegasus' fiery hoof, when, in stamping, he 
had called the bubbling fountain up. I could hear the min- 
strelsy of the tuneful nine in the warbling of every bird that 
twittered by. I could almost imagine that I saw Euterpe's 
laughing face peeping from behind a rock. The silence, the 
grandeur, and the associations of the spot seemed only sug- 
gestive to the Englishmen that "it would be a capital place 
to take lunch ! " True votaries of Silenus, they could not 
forego their orgies here, but drank porter and discussed 
sandwiches as complacently in the favorite haunt of the 
Muses as if they had been seated in a London tavern. 

I could forgive them for a want of enthusiasm, for I had 
seen too much of Englishmen to expect from them any 
great demonstration of sensibility. But, however much I 
might feel inclined to be lenient, I coiild not readily forget 
a degree of ignorance of the common history of Grreece that 
would have subjected the dunce of a country school to a 
posterior application of birch. It seems almost incredible 
that men of any nation, who had arrived at the years of 
discretion, should have been so lamentably deficient in such 
ordinary knowledge. They thought that the battles of 
Marathon and Salamis had been fought on the same day. 
Hadn't the remotest idea who were engaged in the battle 
of Leuctra, but had a deep-rooted conviction that the Per- 
sians were in no way connected with Plataea. They went 
to Parnassus to see sights, and had a very vague impression 
as to what Delphi was celebrated for. But there was one 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 165 

subject on which they seemed profoundly learned : it was 
the highly interesting subject of "stinks." 'Tis their own 
generic term ; and, if I write my annals true, I feel compelled 
to use their very words, although, I confess, I do so in vio- 
lation of my own ideas of propriety. I beg the indulgence 
of those who feel like myself on this subject, for I am con- 
scious that in illustrating the proneness of the English to 
vulgarity, I may myself appear guilty. Although these 
classical gentlemen entertained for the whole genus of bad 
odors the antipathy shared by humanity in general, yet they 
would nose them out, trace them to their origin, and classify 
them under their particular heads, with an avidity that was 
quite surprising. Their animosity for stinks, like that of 
terrier dogs for rats, prompted them to run down, and, if 
possible, catch every unfortunate of the species that happened 
to cross their path ; and it really appeared to afford them 
the intensest satisfaction to determine whether their latest 
capture could be most properly placed in the positive, the 
comparative, or superlative degree of stinks. They were 
eternally going out of their way to stumble upon something 
"rotten," and were much given to having uncommonly 
"nasty " feelings even at meal times. The weather, accord- 
ing to their report, was frequently " funky ;" the houses we 
were compelled to occupy were always "filthy;" and the 
fare was positively " beastly." 

Englishmen pride themselves extremely on the off-hand 
frankness with which they always give things their right 
names. Those, whose associations with these people have 
forced them to hear such expressions as those quoted above, 
must feel thoroughly convinced of their strict adherence to the 
rule. Though I must confess that I think an occasional de- 
parture from it would be desirable, for the sake of delicacy, 
if not decency. The English ridicule Americans for their 
excessive particularity in avoiding offensive expressions. All 



166 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

must agree, however, that it is better to err on our side, than 
their own. We had better be over nice, than generally use, 
as the English do, such terms as I have felt compelled to 
disfigure my pages with, which ordinary refinement should 
banish from the conversation of every gentleman. I would 
advise the English to use expletives, even with the danger of 
being difi'use, rather than be so blunt, and so vulgar. 

I am surprised that men, who had forgotten, or even 
never known the history of Greece, could have traversed its 
sacred soil, without becoming familiar with those brilliant 
events which have made her heroism a proverb. It is won- 
derful that men even of the most ordinary attainments could 
wander amidst " scenes that our earliest dreams have dwelt 
upon," so utterly ignorant of " man's divinest lore." But 
wonder becomes amazement, when I remember that these 
gentlemen, with whom I travelled, were a Fellow in Oxford 
University, and a Captain in Her Majesty's service. Al- 
though they might have forgotten, since there boyish days, 
much of Greece's history, yet it does seem strange that in 
visiting the country, they should have been too indolent to 
refresh their memories, more especially as they had one of 
John Murray's Red Books between them. It seems to me 
that Greece and her annals should possess a peculiar charm 
for the scholar, and the soldier. The precepts of her sages 
and beauties of her poets are as valuable to one, as the 
stories of her valiant sons should be interesting to the other. 
But how could an Englishman read even Murray, whilst he 
carried a bottle of porter in his saddle-bags, and sandwiches 
in his pockets ? 

National pride in Byron should have made them more 
familiar with his favorite Greece. I had myself traced the 
noble pilgrim through many wild and beautiful scenes. I 
had read his eloquent bursts of emotion, upon the classic 
spots which called them forth, and admired them more, be- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 167 

cause they had inspired such a mind. I could not forgive, 
there^ his stockish countrymen, for their insensibility to both. 
But an ignorance of Byron is deemed becoming in the more 
exemplary members of society in England. It has become 
as fashionable to disparage his genius, as it was formerly to 
traduce his character. They have toppled him down from 
the niche which should have been sacred to him in the ad- 
miration of his countrymen, and are laboring to lift Mr. 
Alfred Tennyson into his place. Byron and Tennyson! 
What an unholy alliance of names ! What sinful juxtapo- 
sition ! He who could seriously compare the insipid effu- 
sions of Mr. Tennyson, with the mighty genius of Byron, 
might commit the sacrilege of likening the tricks of Profes- 
sor Anderson to the miracles of our Saviour. 

Most men have their peculiarities, and many their 
weaknesses. Our English scholar's particular passion was 
water-cresses. He was great on experimental consultation, 
and made it a rule never to put a question directly. He 
grew tired, and wished to turn back. He wondered interro- 
gatively what there was to be seen at Parnassus ; and when 
informed there was the view from the summit of the moun- ' 
tain, the grot of Apollo, and the ruins of the temple of the 
oracle at Delphi, he sorrowfully expressed his conviction 
that, after all the " bother," it wouldn't pay. But when the 
dragoman vaguely intimated that the jBnest water-cresses in 
the world grew in the immediate vicinity, he not only ap- 
peared consoled for the necessary fatigue, but even mani- 
fested an unwonted alacrity towards the end of the journey. 
Every breeze that breathed from the snow-clad peak of Par- 
nassus, came laden to him with the refreshing odors of water- 
cresses. There seemed to be renovating influences in every 
whiff. As we advanced, his grim looks of dissatisfaction be- 
came more and more relaxed ; and, on our arrival, he had 
not only succeeded in getting up a much better appetite than 



168 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

his ordinarily remarkably healthy one, but he found himself 
in a much happier frame of mind than common for the en- 
joyment of the lions of the place. A messenger was instantly 
dispatched for his favorite dish. He had cresses for dinner, 
cresses for supper, and cresses the next morning for break- 
fast ; and, issuing forth under their mollifying influence, he 
seemed relieved from the harassing suspicion that, in coming 
to Parnassus, he had been the victim of "a regular sell." 
He rather thought that the temple " would do," and that the 
grotto " was not so bad ;" but he had seen much finer views 
from Scawfell Pike, which he kindly informed me was the 
highest mountain in England, than from the top of Mount 
Parnassus. Oh, vanity and water-cresses ! Absurdity and 
Englishmen ! It seemed nothing to him to be where Apollo 
dwelt, and Byron had been. But in our ascent he alarmed 
me by expressing a distressing apprehension of being about 
to '• funk." This mysterious intimation was more startling, 
as I was altogether ignorant of what terrible consequences 
might result from the unknown process of ''''fu7ikingy I 
was as much relieved as himself when he stopped at the 
■grot, to be informed that " funking" was the briefly elegant 
acceptation of the word giving out. He did nothing during 
our entire stay on the mountain, but complain of great short- 
ness of breath, and weariness of limbs. He blamed every 
body for inducing him to start, and could discover nothing 
to compensate him for such labor. He did not seem aware 
that even then nymphs, and fauns, and Pan with his satyrs 
might be frolicking along the banks of the brawling brook 
that dashed across our path. He never suspected that the 
Muses were timorously hiding in that leafy covert; and did 
not once hear the notes of Apollo's lyre mingling with the sighs 
of the moaning firs. But he was somewhat consoled on reach- 
ing the top, by disparaging Parnassus to praise Scawfell Pike. 
An Englishman seems never convinced that there is anv thing 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 169 

out of England equal to what he boasts of in it. He will 
prefer an English mill-dam to Niagara, and compare one of 
our great Northern Lakes to some nobleman's fish-pond. 

It is a favorite amusement of Englishmen to enlarge 
upon the peculiarities of our nasal twang, and to enumerate 
our " provincialisms." Because we have not imitated them, 
in the abuses of the language, into which vulgarity has be- 
trayed them, we are pronounced guilty of "provincialisms." 
In alluding to the corrections we have made, of their own 
glaring improprieties of speech, they seem to forget that 
America is no longer a province. 

In their attempts to be merry at our expense, they appear 
wholly oblivious of that y^extraordinary 'abit of a vast ma- 
jority of cockneys, of always making the h silent, and aspi- 
rating the vowels in the beginning of a word. On which of 
our rem'otest frontiers could they discover such an unpar- 
donable violation of good grammar and good taste ? Yet 
this habit of dropping, and adding the /t, is universal among 
the lower and middle orders, from London to Wales, and is 
very prevalent among the highest and most polished. But 
whilst we are on the subject of " provincialisms," what shall 
we say of the heathenish dialects of several different shires 
in England, which neither Christians nor Englishmen, out of 
their particular counties, could pretend to understand ? 
Where will they look for such in America ? We may add 
to the significations* of the words clever and smart ^ but it 
seems to me that the great national right, which permitted 
England to form her remarkable compound of Saxon and 
Norman-French, might confer on us the privilege of extend- 
ing the acceptation of a few unimportant words. Even in 
our most figurative meaning of the word smart^ we make a 
near approach to its original signification ; how do the Eng- 
lish force it into conveying an idea of showy, flashy dress ? 



170 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

But we often adhere to the strictly proper acceptation of a 
word, whilst they arbitrarily depart from it. Flain means, 
according to Johnson, simple, unadorned, and not iigly as 
the English would have it, in applying the term to women. 
Stout^ if we can believe the same authority, signifies strong, 
brave, lusty, and not fat ^ as the English generally use it. 

But of whatever indiscretions of speech we may be 
guilty, we are certainly saved the mortification of the insuf- 
ferable vulgarity of applying the chaste term beautiful to 
greasy articles of food. This is a distinction reserved in 
undivided glory, for the most enlightened nation of the nine- 
teenth century. " Beautiful mutton ! " " Beautiful pota- 
toes ! " Ugh how shockingly disgusting ! Who but a can- 
nibal or an Englishman could discover any thing of the beau- 
tiful about what he had to eat 1 I can imagine an epicure 
of the Tongo islands remarking to a sympathizing friend, 
when some fair shipwrecked damsel had fallen into his hands, 
that she would make a '• beautiful roast," but it requires the 
refined perceptions of an Englishman to appreciate the beau- 
ties of a cabbage-head. As my learned companion in 
Greece is an especial favorite of mine, I hope I shall be ex- 
cused for again introducing him for the sake of illustration. 
The only wild bursts of enthusiasm into which he was ever 
betrayed, from '• Sunium's marbled height " to the immortal 
pass of Thermopylae, was whilst ogling a dish of " beautiful 
water-cresses." His soft, susceptible heart daily succumbed 
to an ecstasy of excitement, before a brilliantly green plate of 
his favorite salad. If there ever was an occasion when this 
excitement ceased to be utterly ridiculous, it was at Parnas- 
sus. For these were classic cresses. They had been culled 
on the poetical borders of the Castalian fountain. They had 
sprung from '• holy, haunted ground." Protected by the sha- 
dow of Parnassus, and nurtured by the waters of the immortal 
brook, they might have borne about them, for aught I know, 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. l7l 

something of that poetical inspiration, anciently attributed 
to the fountain. They certainly possessed an interest for 
me from the charm of association ; and I pressed in my 
pocket edition of Childe Harold a few leaves, as a memento 
of Apollo's favorite haunt. But they were cresses still I 
And how the Englishman could apply the term " beautiful " 
to them, as a wholesome and palatable vegetable, I cannot 
pretend to understand. 

In America we conceive the highest evidences of beauty 
to be afforded by women and flowers ; but Englishmen, more 
discriminating, chiefly delight in " beautiful roast-beef " and 
" beautiful porter." There is no accounting for tastes in 
this world, and an Englishman may really discover more 
personal charms, if I might use the expression, about a fat 
sirloin of beef, than in the loveliest woman. But in apply- 
ing the term " beautiful " to beef and porter, he means not 
so much to intimate that they are pleasing to the eye, as 
that they are deliciously titillating to the palate. In this 
the extreme grossness of the impropriety consists. 

Although I have acquitted the more refined and better 
educated people of Great Britain of being universally guilty 
of the vulgar liberties the middle classes take with the ^, 
yet the disposition to indulge in them is very decided, in 
even the highest in London, and this habit, illiterate as it is, 
prevails very commonly in all the provincial towns. The 
most elegant and refined talk constantly of '•'fried ''am^ al- 
though they are not often guilty of the atrocity of adding 
"the /ieggs." They sentimentally insist that " there is no 
place like 'ome," and always salute a friend with '-'ow d'ye 
do." They compliment a lady as being very "'andsome ;" 
they invariably commence a question of time by "wen," and 
fearfully transform the simple relative pronoun into a " wich. " 
These are but a few examples of the propensity of the most 
refined people of England to Aadopt the general custom. 



172 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

They seem very reluctant to ^acknowledge this peculiarly 
Aexoeptionable 'abit, and /^insist that hit his confined to the 
low and Aignorant of the country. But it is universal among 
educated people, whose wealth far surpasses that of our rich- 
est citizens, and it is not at all uncommon among the highest 
and most polished circles. We don't /iaspirate our vowels 
in America. Turn your hejes hon this picture and hon 
that. 

In a couplet of Ben Jonson, which I am sorry not to 
be able to recall, Thames is made to rhyme to James, show- 
ing that in those good old times the name of the river was 
pronounced as a Christian or a reasonable man would pro- 
nounce it now, instead of vulgarly mincing it into "Tems," 
as the present race of Englishmen do. They say Wool'ich 
and Green'ich, when they mean Woolwich and Greenwich. 
They metamorphose Alnwick into AnHck and Warwick into 
WarHck. The mighty " King-maker" is divested of a por- 
tion of his dignity, and "the Last of the Barons " loses some 
of his grandeur, when we hear him called the great Earl of 
War'ick. The abominable abbreviation smacks too strongly 
of cockneyism and smells of the ale-house. It is opposed 
in sound, as in association, to all our preconceived notions of 
the valiant Guy. The famous race of England is always 
spoken of as "the Darby." But the Earl of Derby, although 
in his ministerial relations he has been supposed to bear very 
close analogy to an old woman, has scarcely deserved of his 
countrymen to have his melodious title changed into such a 
sobriquet as Darhij. 

How can they force stone into " stun ? " In this instance 
they are not satisfied with arbitrarily interfering with weights 
and measures, but do violence to all the ordinary rules of 
pronunciation, with "stun." They had much better pro- 
nounce it ton at once, more especially as this standard would 
be infinitely more convenient for determining the gross weight 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. l73 

of Englishmen than either pounds or stone. But it seems 
the British nation are sensitive on the score of weight. In 
opposition, therefore, to every other nation in the world, they 
have adopted a stone instead of a pound, as the unit in as- 
certaining the gravity of British flesh and blood. To unso- 
phisticated ears, 21 stone, 6 pounds, sounds infinitely less 
than three hundred pounds, which weight is a fair average 
of the avoirdupois density of the Sir Tunbelly Clumsies of 
the middle and upper classes. By the term "stun" they 
may possibly intend remotely to allude to the inevitable fate 
of any unfortunate person upon whom one of the heavyocra- 
cy might chance to fall. The crushed individual would most 
certainly be stunned, though the ponderous cause of the dis- 
aster could scarcely be called, in strict accordance with the 
English cant phrase, "a stunner." "A stunner" is general- 
ly supposed in England to be a gentleman, briskly astound- 
ing, rather than personally influential, from weighty consider- 
ations. 

It is not surprising that an Englishman should assume 
the comfortable rotundity of a homemade loaf of bread, 
when it is remembered that few hops are requisite to make 
the latter "rise," and how much of the puffing ingredient the 
former consumes in the shape of malt liquors. In 1850 the 
crop of hops in England reached 48,537,669 lbs., which are 
capable of producing 24,268,834 barrels of beer. I will 
take the liberty of stating, as a matter of curiosity, the di- 
mensions of a single brewery, that of Perkins & Co., the 
famous brewers of London. This vast establishment occu- 
pies some twelve acres of ground. There are employed be- 
tween 450 and 500 men, whose burly forms and crimson and 
unctuous visages make each one a striking impersonation of 
John Barleycorn. There are 160 of those huge horses, whose 
ponderous proportions and great height seem the magic re- 
sult of a mysterious cross between a giraffe and hippopota- 



174 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

mus. There is a copper for steaming the malt capable of 
containing 400 barrels. There is a gigantic vat for final de- 
posit of the liquor before it is drawn into barrels, whose 
wonderful capacity is 3500 barrels, and another of 1500. 
The quantity of malt annually consumed is 127,000 quarters, 
which will produce 317,500 barrels of beer. Quite a lively 
business, considering the amount of fermentation which must 
take place. 

There is no one of our Americanisms at which Englishmen 
more frequently sneer, than the application of the name of 
"cars" to Railroad conveyances. They use the term "car- 
riages." Grammar after all is but an arrangement of rules, 
which the general custom of the most intellectual authorities 
has declared to be proper. A Railroad was a new mode of 
transport, and naturally demanded some new name for its 
means of conveyance. Car was a word rarely if ever used 
in America, though it designates a species of wagon in Eng- 
land ; and I think that both good taste and good sense 
would give the preference to its use, in connection with Rail- 
roads, rather than multiply to a mystifying extent the signi- 
fication of the word carriage. Both cars and carriages have 
wheels, in common with the conveyances for passengers at- 
tached to locomotives — and as car was a word not in use 
with us, and carriage was already loaded with such general 
and various significations, I think that reason sustains us in 
the adoption of the former, though we possessed the right 
to assign, with perfect propriety, any name to the new mode 
of travelling, which general custom might have adopted. 
We can surely manufacture our own names^ however many 
importations we are compelled to make from jJngland. But 
Englishmen seem to insist upon denying us the privilege of 
travelling in "the cars" since they always go "by rail." 
Although "riding on a rail" is a mode of tansport some- 
times adopted on extraordinary occasions i ^ America ; ye t 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 1*75 

its not being generally deemed the most reputable convey- 
ance in the world is, I think, a sufficient reason for the adop- 
tion of some other term for Railroad travelling. 

Among the standing heads for chapters, under which 
every English writer feels it incumbent on him to grow 
wordy and indignant, the dangers of our Steamboat naviga- 
tion occupy a prominent position. All the flaming accounts 
of the accidents occurring on our Western waters, are 
eagerly collected by the touring English in America, and, 
after being properly colored to suit the taste of the market, 
they make up an important chapter for the forthcoming 
" book," which is the inevitable result of an Englishman's 
crossing the Atlantic. The best evidence of England's bit- 
ter hatred of America is her insatiable taste for slanderous 
productions on this country. The same complaints are 
repeated — the spitting — the same vulgarity — the same Lynch 
Law — and Steamboat catastrophes — are reproduced again 
and again, under new names and different colored binding, 
and yet the demand is always brisk for these villainous com- 
pilations. 

Explosions of boilers — sinking from being snagged — 
burnings and collisions, are all joyously heralded, with terri- 
ble minuteness, by these English commentators on America. 
The frequency of such occurrences is adduced as convincing 
proof of the reckless disregard for life, and utter incapability 
of all grades of officials in America. It is true, that Steam- 
boat accidents are extremely rare in England, for their 
boasted " Terns" would scarcely float a large-sized yawl, ex- 
cept when it '}Hi floated, as high as London, by the tide. Such 
limited aquatic facilities are certainly the safest protection 
against the ^rightful accidents, which have rendered the 
Mississippi so terrible to Englishmen. The great Father of 
"Waters hurh his rushing current along a distance of 2800 



176 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

miles, whilst the Missouri, with its junction to the Missis- 
sippi, measures 4100 miles, the longest river in the world. 
But the famous " Tems," with all its advantages of tide, 
locks, and dams, creeps but 233 miles to the sea. 

But although there exists this almost impossibility 
against Steamboat accidents, yet never a week, and scarcely 
a day passes, without the announcement of one or more 
serious Railroad disasters. I will not crowd my pages with 
extracts from London papers in support of what I say, but 
I appeal to the habitual readers of the English journals, for 
the truth of my assertion. I have observed in the papers of 
the same morning notices of three different Railroad casual- 
ties. But Englishmen boast that the sufferers, on such oc- 
casions, are always amply remunerated for. the injuries they 
may have sustained. It is true, that an accident rarely oc- 
curs, without the formality of a lawsuit, and that damages 
are almost universally recovered from the delinquent com- 
pany. This may be all very well, after the mischief is done, 
but in most countries the remedy applied would be thought 
to come rather late. Who but an Englishman could be 
consoled for the loss of a near relation, by the receipt of a 
sum of money, which a jury had decided to be the equivalent 
of his intrinsic value whilst he lived ? Who but an Eng- 
lishman would be satisfied to compound for the loss of a 
limb, in shillings and pence ? Money appears the panacea 
for every ill in England. It is applied with equal effect to 
bruised affections, and broken legs. So deliciously does this 
universal remedy act upon every patient, that the lucky in- 
dividual is eagerly heralded in the newspapers, as a fit sub- 
ject for congratulation, who can ascribe to some erratic loco- 
motive a demolished parent, or pulverized limb. If a man 
should be unfortunate in his domestic relations, or receive a 
horsewhipping — they pay him: money being considered a 
salve, healing alike to wounded honor, and a smarting back. 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 17 Y 

If a young woman loses her reputation by slander, or a 
husband by '• breach of promise," they hasten to pay her for 
the loss of both : money being deemed, in England, a desir- 
able substitute for those two possessions, which are usually 
supposed to be absolutely essential to the happiness of the 
sex. But it is useless to multiply examples. It is a well- 
approved fact, that Englishmen have no sorrows that money 
cannot soothe. 

Englishmen are stanch supporters of the principle that 
" vulgarity and rudeness " are the necessary consequences of 
"free and enlightened Republicanism." They may say 
what they like of the barbarous influence of mingling all 
classes in America, but a Republic is the only school for 
rearing gentlemen among the people. When there is a 
marked and inexorable distinction of classes, those beneath 
experience, in spite of themselves, a feeling of degradation, 
which produces a thousand little meannesses, inconsistent 
with the high-toned feelings of a gentleman. But where 
there is no social inequality. Democracy leaves room for the 
expansion of those principles, which, however rough a man's 
exterior may be, make him a gentleman in feeling and 
action. A proper pride is the first element of true gentility , 
and where there is no prescribed disability in the lowest to 
associate with the highest, this pride of independence pro- 
duces a feeling of refinement, a regard for themselves, which 
very naturally produces a regard for other people. There is 
no danger of any brutal manifestation of disrespect towards 
those whose age, whose intellect, or whose wealth have placed 
them in superior positions. A man, who is perfectly assured 
of the equality of his rights with the highest, experiences no 
vulgar ambition to make an unbecoming display of them. 
The self-respect which arises from his position, teaches him 
that rudeness to those above him would be much more de- 
8* 



178 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

grading to him, than it could possibly be to them. A man 
whose finer feelings are crushed by the consciousness of in- 
feriority ; who is compelled to submit to the insolence of 
purse-proud superiors, can have no self-respect ; and in his 
debasement he is actuated by a mean desire to vent upon 
those beneath him the insulting injuries he has himself 
received. The more humbly he is forced to cringe to those 
whom the laws have made his masters, the more cruelly will 
he be avenged on those whom fortune has placed below 
him. The loss of independence, which makes him servile, 
makes him rude. Servility is as unbecoming as rudeness, 
in a gentleman. But so long as the present legal differences 
in the grades of society are maintained in England, her 
entire population must continue both obsequious and bru- 
tal. The 26,999,570 of the people must be basely submis- 
sive to the nobility, and the 430 titles must meanly cringe 
to the crown. 

It has long been a subject of mysterious interest to me, 
to ascertain what peculiar qualifications conferred on a man 
in England the title of gentleman. Whether a certain 
amount of refinement, of fortune, of education, or noble blood 
were requisite, I never could satisfactorily determine. After 
much laborious research in books, and patient comparison of 
the various persons to whom this enigmatical title had been ap- 
plied by Englishmen themselves, I have concluded that an 
English gentleman signifies any idle individual, who has 
inherited from his father or some other hard-working ances- 
tor, fortune sufficient to live without active occupation. To 
be rich, and to do nothing, constitute an Englishman's some- 
what contracted ideas of gentility. 

This gentlemanly idleness of the so-called aristocracy, is 
an unnatural state of existence, which cannot subsist long 
without injury both to the individual himself, and the society 
in which he lives. Go back to the first oentleman. Adam in 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. l79 

the garden. The experiment of idleness was satisfactorily 
tried there, and was found impracticable. Does any one im- 
agine that the forbidden fruit would ever have been tasted, 
if Adam had been daily occupied in tilling the earth, and 
Eve, like a good housewife, in darning fig-leaf aprons for her 
husband and herself? Never. It was her utter idleness, 
which afforded the serpent an opportunity of using his guile, 
it was idleness which left room for his cunning suggestions 
to grow into uncontrollable curiosity. Had the lady mother 
of mankind been actively engaged in some domestic occupa- 
tion, she would have had no time to listen to the serpent's 
wiles, much less to try afterwards the experiment he had 
suggested. This whole system of gentility is faulty. It is 
founded in error, and can never come to good. To make 
idleness, that fruitful source of every evil, the test of aris- 
tocracy, and yet contend that this unjust system is not ruin- 
ous to the nation in which it exists, is worse than folly. The 
condition of England is the happiest commentary upon this 
absurd despotism of fashion. " It is stated in the London 
Times, that, upon an average, one person out of twenty of this 
luxurious metropolis is every day destitute of food and em- 
ployment, and every night without place for shelter or repose. 
It is a lamentable fact that in this town of London alone, 
the centre and core of British civilization, one hundred thou- 
sand persons are every day without food, save it be the pre- 
carious produce of a passing job, or crime." 

The fortunate individual who is rich enough to live with- 
out labor in England, might be a blackguard, a fool, or a 
puppy, or all three at once, yet he would nevertheless be a 
gentleman, and could command, accordingly, the too ready 
deference of the money-ridden vassals of Great Britain. No 
refinement of manners, or cultivation of mind, are required 
to sustain his pretensions ; no elegant accomplishments are 
expected of him: it is not even thought necessary that he 



180 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

should twirl his thumbs gracefully during his very many hours 
of unemployed leisure; but he must "box well," and "ride 
boldly/' he must be able to " thrash the waterman," and to 
" take a five-barred gate " at top speed. Idleness is deemed his 
chiefest virtue, and ridiculous self-conceit, and brutal effron- 
tery, are considered the most unimpeachable evidences of his 
gentility. An attorney or a surgeon are considered members ^ 
of honorable professions : a banker or a merchant command 
high respect in society, but it would be deemed a shocking 
misapplication of terms, to speak of any of them as gen- 
tlemen. 

How very different are our ideas in America of a gen- 
tleman. If I were called on here to give an American defi- 
nition of a gentleman, I should say that he was a man easy^ 
but unobtrusive in his manners, who never did any thing to 
offend the taste of the most refined, or wound the feelings of 
the most sensitive ; and who possessed withal an income, suffi- 
cient to dress neatly, and indulge the simple habits of a man 
of cultivation. He should be modest without bashfulness, and 
firm, without an affectation of pugnacity. He ought never 
to attempt to attract attention by noise, or an-ogance, nor 
should he allow any one to treat him in a manner which 
approached indignity. But let him be cool and civil under 
all circumstances. He should never be betrayed into any 
thing like a display of temper ; there are much more effec- 
tual modes of manifesting spirit than in bullying. A wo- 
man might treat him in a manner to prevent his ever 
approaching her again, and a man might insult him so as to 
make it necessary to call him to an account, but he ought 
never to gratify either, by allowing them to think that they 
were capable of exciting a feeling of anger in his breast. He 
should be above such petty manifestations of weakness, as 
he should avoid such an acknowledgment to them, that they 
were of sufficient importance to disturb his equanimity. 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 181 

Determination is stronger when cool, as the blade is keener 
from being polished. Above all, let him never condescend 
to bandy words with a woman. Her sex should be her protec- 
tion even from attacks of his tongue. It is much more to 
his honor to maintain a dignified silence under the fiercest 
feminine assaults, than to elevate a shrewish woman into an 
equality with himself, by replying to her rudeness. He 
ought to be polite to her as long as he is in her presence, 
though he might avoid all repetition of the affront for the 
future. He ought to touch his hat to his opponent, with 
whom he was about to engage in mortal combat. He should 
be much more punctUious in his observance of etiquette 
with those whom he did not like, than with his friends. 
There is no surer way of keeping a man at a distance, than 
to treat him with studied civility. But I have allowed my- 
self to say much more than I intended in alluding to this 
subject. The great animating principle of genuine gentility, 
is a delicate regard for the feelings of other people. Let a 
man remember this, and preserve his own self-respect, and 
he will be very certain never to do any thing unworthy of a 
gentleman. A refined perception of what would be disagree- 
able to his neighbors, will always prevent his being either 
coarse or rude in his manners ; and he should not allow 
even a desire to appear witty, to betray him into a forgetful- 
ness of the feelings of others, which would be much more un- 
becoming to him, than it could possibly be cutting to them. 
Politeness is deemed lessening to the position of a gentle- 
man in England ; in America it is thought his proudest 
ornament. Englishmen say that we use " sir " too frequently 
in addressing our equals — to whom should we use it if not to 
them ? The Englishman will reply to the civil question of 
a comparative stranger with rude abruptness, but should a 
nobleman chance to address him, " my Lord," or " your 
Grace," not only thickly garnishes all he replies, but smooth- 



182 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

ly rounds off the end of every sentence. Their excessive 
repetition becomes both absurd and disgusting. But it would 
be thought a want of self-respect in him to introduce " Sir " 
once, in answer to a man whose position did not look down 
upon his own. Yet the English declare that they so bela- 
bor the nobility with their titles, because it is 'polite. 
Their civility loses its rarest charm in ceasing to be volun- 
tary ; and their politeness becomes servility in making abject 
submission to a superior. Their truckling deference to 
nobles is a base acknowledgment of inferiority, and not that 
free, high-toned feeling, which produces a respect for the 
feelings of others ; nor that generous affabilit}'- of disposi- 
tion which begets the desire to be agreeable. A man, 
actuated by the proper feelings of a gentleman, would be 
much more observant of his conduct towards equals, and in- 
feriors, than towards those whose position commanded his 
respect ; for although the former could not demand or even 
expect from him politeness, yet it is due to himself, if not to 
them, to treat them with consideration ; — although he might 
entertain no very exalted respect for them, yet his own self- 
respect should induce him to extend to them such civilities 
as he could not omit with propriety. Politeness is justly 
expected from his position, though not demanded by theirs. 
Many persons appear to think that a Lord must be a 
gentleman because he has nothing else to do. But an Eng- 
lishman, even when possessing all the advantages of wealth 
in idleness, is so bundled up in his multifarious wrappings of 
selfishness and arrogance, that he possesses about the same 
faculties for being gentlemanly in his manners, that a sud- 
denly resurrected mummy might be supposed to have for 
being sprightly in its movements. In England gentleman 
is a mere title, which is tacked to the tail end of a list of 
Dukes, Lords, Baronets, &c. It is not considered at all es- 
sential to a Dnke to be a crcntleman. But in France, where 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 183 

legal distinctions in rank are also acknowledged, the simple 
title of Gentleman, which a man must win for himself, is 
justly considered superior to all hereditary titles. They say 
Monsieur le President, Monsieur le Prince. The first title 
is descriptive of the man, the last of his father. 

When an Englishman conceives it to be advisable to do 
a fav©r, instead of making it acceptable, he always succeeds 
in accompanying it with such an air of obliging condescen- 
sion, as to render it extremely offensive. The supercilious 
smile on his lips seems to say, what an uncommonly good 
fellow I am, so extensively to patronize you. His anxiety 
always appears excessive to make you fully aware of the 
painful degree of self-debasement his pride has submitted to 
in doing you a trifling service. And as he is not often guilty 
of such indiscretions, he resolves to impress you with the im- 
portance of what he has done, and the overwhelming amount 
of gratitude due him in consequence. An Irishman can 
more gracefully refuse a kindness than an Englishman do 
one. The latter never appears so disgusting as when he 
attempts to be especially kind. As I said once before, in 
trying to seem affable, he succeeds in being condescending ; 
in affecting to oblige, he becomes insulting. 

I have met with some Englishmen who, after a long re- 
sidence in India, or some other foreign country, presented 
but few of those national peculiarities which render them 
generally so forbidding. And I have known others in 
America whom you would never suspect of being English- 
men — they were such good fellows. But these had been 
early transplanted from England. If the sound oranges be 
immediately removed from a barrel in which decay has com- 
menced, they may be saved ; but if suffered to remain, they 
are all soon reduced to the same disgusting state. 

The transient English travelling on our Western boats, 
make grievous complaints of the rude and vulgar manners 



184 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of the passengers, when people of all classes — the educated 
and uneducated — the wealthy and the laboring — the elegant 
and the awkward — are mixed indiscriminately together. 
That many of them may have been rough in their appear- 
ance, and unpolished in their manners, I am most ready to 
admit ; but that they made any display of indecent rudeness 
I do not believe. These hardy pioneers might not hava been 
so meekly submissive as our stiff-necked Britishers were 
prepared to expect ; but if they were at all rude in their 
manners, it must have been when these distinguished repre- 
sentatives of the old country were inclined to assert a superi- 
ority, which these independent Democrats were not disposed 
to acknowledge. No people know their own stations, or re- 
spect those of other persons more carefully, than Americans ; 
but the respect which superior intellect or wealth generally 
receives, must be a voluntary offering, not a demanded right. 
The moment a man arrogates to himself superiority to his 
fellows, he is mortified by being made to feel that we are all 
born free and equal. It is this salutary humiliation of arro- 
gance which makes Englishmen so bitterly hostile to the 
" brutal mingling of all classes in America." 

English writers on America are eternally descanting 
upon the deteriorating effects of Democracy upon the morals 
and manners of a people, and yet they betray their insincerity 
by the comparisons they are constantly instituting between 
this country and their own. They denounce Democracy as 
destructive of all moral and intellectual excellence, and yet 
they appear dissatisfied that our worst do not equal their 
best. On some Western steamboat they are thrown into a 
sociable squad of cattle-drivers and horse-traders, whose 
manners are not elegantly polished, and whose persons may 
be redolent of other perfumes than Lubin's ; and they ex- 
press themselves disappointed because these rough but very 
good fellows do not possess all the easy presumption of their 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 185 

nobility. They rail at the Republic, and yet expect it to do 
wonders. They are fond of contrasting England and Ame- 
rica, but they always place our roughest citizens beside their 
richest nobles. Indeed, to hear an Englishman talk, one 
would very naturally conclude that the nobility embraced 
the whole nation, and London the entire country of Great 
Britain. In discussing the manners and customs of, the 
English people, he invariably cites what my Lord what's-his- 
name says, or His Grace of what-d'ye-call-it, does. And 
people in the largest cities of the provinces and remotest 
parts of the kingdom, in alluding to London, speak of 
"going to town," just as a man living in the outskirts of one 
of our villages speaks of going " down in town," when he 
proposes a walk to the principal business street. If their 
430 individuals of title really do monopolize not only the 
virtues and accomplishments, which might be reasonably ex- 
pected to be distributed among the twenty-seven millions of 
people of Great Britain, but those of the 830 millions of the 
universe, it would be extremely unjust to compare our most 
refined classes with a circle so peculiarly favored. Accord- 
ing to the British standard of excellence — money — our 
wealthiest citizens are very far inferior to their rich middle 
classes, and could not consequently be contrasted even with 
them, without injustice. But the English are much too 
cunning to be just ; they will not exhibit their commercial 
and agricultural classes in opposition to ours, though even 
then they would have immensely the advantage in wealth. 
These are the only classes of society in the two countries 
between which there exists a parallel. According to their 
own theory all classes in America should be infinitely in- 
ferior to their nobility. We have no hereditary aristocracy, 
with their vast advantages of wealth, of idleness, and legal 
superiority ; but our merchants, our planters, our farmers, 
and members of the learned professions are our best ; but 



186 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

these are always compared with their nobles, instead of their 
corresponding classes in England. The " cits " of England 
have always been regarded with scorn, and treated with 
contempt. They were the fools and cuckolds of every farce 
from Wycherly to Grarrick, and still continue the bulls for 
the sharp authors and titled blockheads who aspire to be 
witty. But our more refined classes of citizens are thought 
to present too favorable a contrast with their nobility, and 
our roughest Western pioneers are therefore selected as a 
suitable foil to aristocratic excellence. But what can pro- 
duce so extraordinary a difference between the commercial 
and agricultural classes of the two countries, if it be not the 
Republic ? I have made the suggestion, and leave the rest 
to the reflections of my readers. 

It is surprising how difiicult it is to discover the basis, 
on which rest pretensions so ample as those of the British 
aristocracy. It is true that custom numbers all the nobility 
among "the mighty men of Israel." Each noble Lord 
boasts himself vastly superior to the untitled of the uni- 
verse, though the evidences of his superiority still continue 
a mystery. Less simple than Samson, he has never betrayed 
to the world in what his strength really consists. He stu- 
diously conceals its sources. Probably apprehending the 
treachery of some new Delilah, he considers it safer to talk 
about, than to display his immeasurable superiority. All are 
ready to admit that his estates are much more extensive, 
and his income much ampler, than those of ordinary indi- 
viduals, but surely he cannot found his pretensions on his 
fortune, for he professes heartily to despise money, and never 
omits an opportunity to sneer at those who are toiling to 
possess it. 

When we consider the fact that they possess all the ad- 
vantages that wealth, uninterrupted leisure, and the super- 
stitious awe of rank can give, it is strange how few scions of 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 187 

noble families have in the last two hundred years occupied 
distinguished positions. And if we except Lord Byron, not 
a single hereditary possessor of a title has made, during 
that period, a name that will live. The government wisely 
leave the nobility to sport the broad ribbons of the different 
noble orders, and to sustain the arrogance of the country, 
whilst her honor is protected, and her battles fought by the 
great minds that spring from the commons. The only in- 
stance in which an attempt has been made to force distin- 
guished rank into supplying the place of distinguished abil- 
ities, the Duke of York committed such blunders, as Com- 
mander-in-Chief in the Low Countries, as to be court-mar- 
tialed for misconduct. When a Prince of the blood royal 
is subjected to such a mark of the nation's disapprobation, 
his incapacity must be gross indeed. 

The world had a beginning, as every thing in it must 
have. The basis of aristocracy is money. It is useless to 
attempt to conceal it. Money founded, and money sustains 
the noble families of Great Britan. James I. enjoys the 
honor of establishing a basis so worthy of the order. The 
vilest of monarchs, for the vilest of purposes, erected the 
stepping-stone, by which low-born opulence is wont to climb 
into nobility. 

When all those oft-tried extortions of tonnage and pound- 
age, compulsory loans, and miscalled benevolences had been 
exhausted, when every possible expedient to raise money had 
been resorted to, except its legal appropriation by parlia- 
ment, James I. created the order of Baronets, and retailed 
the titles at £1000 apiece. Yet this despicable tyrant, 
without a single redeeming quality, this King without dig- 
nity, and pedant without sense, this unnatural son and 
cruel father, this treacherous friend and pusillanimous foe, 
in order to overturn the constitution of the country, and 
trample upon the rights of his subjects, became the hucksterer 



188 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of these new means, by which rich parvenues might assume 
the coveted ermine of the aristocracy. To evade the con- 
stitutional presence of parliament, and bid defiance to the 
laws, James established this traffic. And for filthy lucre, 
paid to such a monarch, in such a cause, a large majority of 
the founders of the present proud nobility of England 
gained their baronetcy, which was then, as it is now, the an- 
techamber of aristocracy, from which upstart wealth may 
peep, on tiptoe, into the half-curtained windows of fashion- 
able revels. Those who will observe the enormous increase 
of the peerage since the reign of Elizabeth, may form some 
idea of the number of persons who compounded with James. 
It is not surprising that the nobility should be so fond of 
tracing back their genealogies. An origin so worthy of 
their tastes, so in accordance with their habits, is naturally 
regarded with fond affection. They are right, piously to 
hoard the pelf to which they owe so much. With James I. 
as an example for conduct, and money as their chief -object 
in life, they will probably continue to be worthy of their il- 
lustrious origin. 

It is true that the refinements of society of the present 
day would be outraged by the audacity of James's shame- 
less bargain and sale. Modern etiquette has changed the 
form of proceeding, but the principle which characterized the 
transaction then, stamps it now. Cash is still the pass- 
word, which admits any enterprising individual into those 
mysteriously exclusive circles, which are professedly guarded 
with Masonic watchfulness. 

But greater changes, than in the refinement of the peo- 
ple, have taken place in England. It is " the order," not 
the King, whose coffers now require replenishing. Since the 
secure establishment of the English constitution, servile par- 
liaments have always been too zealous in filling the exchequer 
of the sovereign, to make it necessary for him to resort to 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 189 

those extraordinary expedients, alike degrading to the mon- 
arch, and injurious to the subject, which commenced under 
Henry VIII. and ended with Charles I. Both his public 
and private wants being thus happily provided for, it is not 
on his own account, but to pour new and vigorous blood into 
the exhausted veins of " the order," that the sovereign now 
graciously admits the bloated vulgarity of rich snobs within 
the magic circle of aristocracy. Money is a perishable sort 
of thing, and will not stick eternally to noblemen's fingers, 
however convulsively they may clutch it. But money is the 
life-blood of the aristocracy, and money must be had at 
every sacrifice, to bolster up its greatness. Whenever there- 
fore a despised citizen becomes rich enough to make his wealth 
desirable, or his opposition feared, the Queen, who dotes on 
the order, as every sovereign ought, ingeniously discovers 
some long-hidden virtue, which suddenly makes him worthy 
of Knighthood. From that happy day the Cit belongs 
soul, body, and more than both, purse — to the nobility. 
He already dreams of a coronet, and looks forward with 
fond expectation to the intoxicating period, when he can 
speak of the privileges of the nobility as his own. 

But it frequently happens, that the rare virtues and dis- 
tinguished merits of well-fed aldermen are so securely buried 
under the ample folds of fat acquired in green-turtle indul- 
gences and civic potations, as to escape even the inquiring 
penetration of the Queen. Not even modesty could forbid, 
under such circumstances, that the deserving individual 
should give some gentle intimation of his having money 
enough to insure him the possession of every earthly virtue. 
A huge donation to some royal charity — to the crystal pal- 
ace, or some other chimera from the Prince Consort's brains, 
at once makes the Queen sensible of his hitherto unappreci- 
ated excellence, and he becomes a Baronet. The progress 
from Baronet to Earl is easy and natural, when gold paves 



190 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the way. And although the fortunate aspirant may not him- 
self do so, yet his son or his grandson are certain to enjoy 
the ineffable felicity of breathing the balmy atmosphere of 
those elevated regions, where both money and trade are so 
heartily despised. 

Mr. Carlyle has particularly designated us as " eighteen 
millions of the greatest bores ever seen in this world." I 
greatly fear that his retired habits have not permitted the 
distinguished gentleman a very extended acquaintance with 
his well-fed countrymen. Had he been more general in his 
intimacies at home, I feel assured that candor would have 
compelled him, in defiance of his known courtesy to America, 
to award to his own countrymen a pre-eminence so well 
earned, and universally acknowledged. 

There exists a ponderous sympathy between the minds 
and persons of Englishmen, which renders them unrivalled 
as " bores." Unwieldy and inert, neither is much addicted 
to unnecessary exertion. They infinitely prefer eating to 
talking. Indeed I may say that they are opposed to conver- 
sation on principle. They regard even a limited indulgence 
in words as an unjustifiable interference with their dinner, 
and condemn it as a serious interruption to digestion, after 
dinner is over. Conversation is something therefore to be 
eschewed by all sensible people. A Briton is emphatically 
a silent animal. But we commend his silence since, like that 
of the ass, it relieves us from the terrors of his bray. He- 
can, however, talk upon occasion, but woe unto him whom he 
deems worthy of being talked to. For however disinter- 
ested, or even complimentary, the intentions of the innocent 
persecutor may be, the sufferings of his victim are not the 
less acute. Surely the English must imbibe stupidity with 
their food. Veal and lamb must certainly possess some 
chemical affinity for their oleaginous brains, which, when 
thoroughly established, forms a sluggish solution that must 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 191 

prove an opiate for any mind that comes under its influence. 
Their liveliest conversation is a drowsy compound of beef 
and porter, enlivened by oft-told tales of England's glory, 
and stale slanders of America. Their highest appreciation 
of fun is to make Ireland's sufferings the subject of some 
senseless jest. The peculiarities of the bullock, and the 
sheep have, through the magnetic influence of continued ab- 
sorption, made themselves much more prominent in the dis- 
positions of the people, than those distinguishing Anglo- 
Saxon peculiarities, of which we hear so much, and know so 
little. They have not become woolly, nor do they univer- 
sally wear horns, but the nobility are eternally bellowing 
forth the astounding deeds of their ancestors, whilst the 
muttonish middle classes bleat a timorous approval. Such 
subjects constitute their fund of amusing small talk, their 
agreeable conversational recreation, their lively hits at the 
passing unimportant. 

But interest or vanity sometimes makes him hold forth 
in more serious strains. He often talks as " Jack " was 
wont to " sing " — '■ for his supper." It is an established 
rule of his life never to omit an opportunity of feeding at 
another's expense, and the remote prospect of an invitation 
to dinner will make him bore his intended host, with the in- 
tention of making himself agreeable, by a rigmarole of 
vapid nonsense, that would deafen a miller. His vanity, 
too, will prompt him to great efforts to impress distinguished 
strangers with his sparkling entertaining powers. His 
topics for conversation for such extraordinary occasions are 
hidden and deeply buried, but if once you reach them, like 
the Artesian wells, they are inexhaustible. If he conceives 
you to be a man of consideration, he will dilate on steamers 
and railroads, in voluminous discourses, possessing all the 
fatigue and ennui^ without the expedition of those convey 
ances. He will assail you with prodigious accumulations of 



192 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

information on coals, and overwhelm you witli statistical 
tables concerning them, as dark and fathomless as their own 
native pits. He will spin you tedious yarns about Man- 
chester manufacturing, as endless as the thread of fa^e. He 
will kindly favor you with an elaborate price-current of 
hops for the past twenty years, which shall be warranted 
destitute of all the sprightly qualities of that article. And, 
after having put you comfortably into a doze by his learned 
disquisitions on trifles, he will arouse you by retailing the 
kitchen gossip of every noble family in the kingdom, which 
is rather enlivening, as a pretty considerable dash of scandal 
gives something like piquancy even to his dulness. The 
English are undoubtedly strong believers in the substantial. 
Their minds, their persons, and their conversation are all 
of a solidity which nearly approaches the heavy. But they 
are not " bores," for Mr. Carlyle, a man of decided discrim- 
ination, has never discovered them to be so ; although ill- 
natured people might insinuate that his opinion was formed 
upon the principle which induced the owl to believe her 
nest-full of owlets the prettiest lot of young birds in the 
world. 

Mr. Carlyle, in common with the rest of his nation, com- 
placently boasts of the acquirements of a few of his coun- 
trymen, and raves about the wonders they have achieved. 
It would be strange indeed, if from such vast pools of stag- 
nant stupidity, some bright spirit did not occasionally arise, 
as the Jack-o'-lantern springs from fetid bogs. It should be 
remembered that these huge puddles have, for eighteen cen- 
turies, been in a state of progressive preparation for such 
phenomena, and yet the world has been dazzled by no illu- 
mination of Will-o'-the-wisps. A leading spirit, every hun- 
dred years, is no great things, even for lumbering Britain. 
The intervals between Chaucer, Spenser, Shakspeare, Mil- 
ton, and Byron, are rather long for England to sneer at 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. lOo 

America, because slie has not yet produced their equals. 
But Great Britain possesses the happiest faculty of making 
much out of little. The nation is never at a loss for the 
bluster of a genuine bully. John Bull's course towards us 
has always been that of an overgrown, lubberly lout, towards 
a very young boy. He dares not measure his strength with 
those of his own age, but, prompted by aspiring cowardice, 
he delights to assume airs of superiority in derision of our 
youth, and to boast of his own exploits in comparison with 
our inexperience. But when people recollect what we have 
accomplished in our short national existence of three-fourths 
of a century, the world will not laugh with, but at the Bri- 
tish bumpkin, in his giggling self-complacency. 

Mr. Carlyle suddenly turns upon America, and taunting- 
ly demands, " what great, noble thing, that one can worship 
or loyally admire, has yet been produced there V I am free 
to acknowledge, that the activity and widespread intelligence 
of our people are too great, to produce the brilliant phenom- 
ena alluded to above. And it is not at all surprising that 
their natural sprightliness should cause them to be consider- 
ed " bores" by a man of Mr. Carlyle's sedentary habits and 
phlegmatic disposition. It is true that we support no mag- 
nificent Archbishops at $75,000 a year to " worship ;" nor do 
we annually invest $1,925,000, in order to have a Queen 
whom we may •' loyally admire." But we can boast that 
our country presents to the assembled world 23,000,000 of 
the freest, happiest, "and most enlightened people the sun 
ever shone upon. 

But Mr. Carlyle asserts that " America with her roast 
goose and apple sauce for the poorest working man," is still 
" not much." We have at least shown ourselves a match for 
Great Britain in every contest, and, according to the evi- 
dence of the distinguished essayist himself, we have every 
reason to. feel satisfied with our position. He pompously 
9 



194 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

announces that " America's battle is yet to fight," that we 
have done nothing. Is stilling the rushing currents of 
rivers, and making them obedient to our arks of ^steam 
nothing ? Is it nothing to tame the withering lightning, and 
lead it harmless by the habitations of men ? Is it nothing 
to annihilate space, and whisper with our antipodes ? " If 
these be nothing," then Fulton, Franklin, and Morse are 
nothing, and " the world and all that's in't are nothing." 
Let Mr. Carlyle array all his Heroes of History, and show 
the world another Washington. Where will he find more 
'fervid bursts of eloquence than our Adams, our Henry, 
and Randolph have startled a nation with ? Where will he 
find the aims of history writing better accomplished than 
by Prescott and Bancroft? General Jackson taught the 
British at New Orleans what our armies could accomplish. 
And although the English nation, on every festive occasion, 
may shout with maudlin glee, that " Britannia rules the 
waves," yet all the waters of all the oceans will not wash out 
the records that Decatur, Perry, and Stewart have made in 
the naval history of the world. 

The English are eternally alluding to our national vanity, 
and disposition to exaggerated boasting. These are quali- 
ties which England appears to consider exclusively her own. 
That she is immeasurably superior to all the nations upon 
earth, she holds to be a corollary which no one would dare to 
dispute. And she has always been so magnificently grandi- 
loquent in self-glorification, that she deems it presumption 
in any nation to ' attempt the same strains. If England 
really be what she boasts, we ought to be excused for feel- 
ing some little national pride ; for we have overcome her in 
every contest — whether by sea or land, whether contending 
with muskets or cannon, yachts, clippers, or steamers, pa- 
tent-lock pickers, or reaping machines, we have always been 
victorious. But her supremacy on the ocean has • been her 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 195 

chief source of pride. I shall not be invidious in enume- 
rating the exploits of Paul Jones, nor shall I be unkind in 
dwelling upon our brilliant naval victories during the war of 
1812 ; I shall base our claims upon the peaceful victories of 
competition. It is scarcely necessary to allude to the victo- 
ry gained by the yacht America ; but I will remind my 
readers that we have the fastest time ever made by sailing 
vessels. The Witch of the Wave, an American clipper of 
1400 tons, made the voyage from China to England in 90 
days, the fastest on record. Her greatest run in one day 
was 389 miles, whilst the greatest run in one day ever re- 
ported by an English ship was less than 370 miles. The 
Racer, of 1 700 tons, made her first voyage from New-York 
to Liverpool in the imprecedented time of 14 days ; but 
the Washington accomplished the same voyage in 13^ days. 
It is scarcely necessary to allude to the glorious victory 
achieved by the Collins steamers over the Cunard line. 
John Bull is not much given to acknowledge himself sur- 
passed in any thing ; he must be completely whipped before 
he will confess it himself. As an evidence of how badly he 
feels himself beaten I give the following extracts. 

English Yachts and American Clitpers. — Yesterday evening Mr. 
Scott Russell delivered a lecture before the Royal Institution on English 
Yachts and American Clippers : — 

"England, he observed, wrapped up in her prejudices, had been 
excelled in the art of ship-building by the Americans, who followed in 
this matter common sense and the laws of nature for their guides. He, 
however, believed it was only necessary for us to be assured of our 
present inferiority, to produce a stimultis that should result in placing 
us first in the competition, A premium under the old British law of 
tonnage had been held out to the construction of bad ships, and our 
yacht clubs adopting this law had increased the evil. There was a 
time when speed need not be considered a necessaiy quality in mer- 
chant ships, which were held to be good in proportion to the amount 
of cargo they would stow aM'^ay — with no reference to speed — and but 



196 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

little to safety. Now, however, since the discovery of gold at the an- 
tipodes, speed was more than ever an object, and therefore under the 
stimulus thus begotten, the lecturer predicted the building of ships 
within the next ten years very far exceeding in size and speed any we 
had already seen. Twenty miles an hour, he believed, would be not 
an extraordinary speed for the new race of vessels, and their length 
might amount to 500 feet. In point of fact, the longer a ship, the 
safer, the swifter, the better was she, provided only her materials were 
strong enough to withstand the increased strain. By adopting iron in- 
stead of wood as a shipbuilding material, this necessary degree of 
strength might be secured." — Observer. 

And the following from the Times : 

The truth must be told — the British steamships have been beaten, 
and the most rapid passages ever achieved between the Old and New 
World have been accomplished by the American steamships. None 
but an American steamship has ever yet run from Liverpool to New- 
York and vice versa in less than ten days. The average passage of the 
Asia and Africa may, perhaps, nearly equal those of the Pacific, Baltic, 
and Arctic of the Collins line ; but the Americans have achieved the 
positive victory in speed, their steamers — the Pacific, Baltic and 
Arctic — having made the fleetest voyages. On the part of the Ameri- 
cans the contest has been carried on at vast cost, and additional grants 
from Congress, ostensibly for the mail service, but in reality from the 
national spirit of rivalry, have only recently been obtained to prevent 
the project from perishing by reason of an enormous inequality between 
receipts and expenditures. On the part of the British, while heavy 
amounts have been paid by the exchequer, and a large profit has been 
made by the contractors, the Messrs. Cunard, the defeat had been 
accepted only to renew the attempt in the hope and expectation of 
mature and eventual success. 

A great change has recently occurred in the tone of the 
daily press of England towards America. She is evidently 
waking up to the consciousness of who we really are. I hope 
my readers will bear with me in offering some extracts from 
daily papers in illustration of this somewhat mysterious 
change in the style of addressing America. The following 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 197 

are from the Times, with their dates and subjects attached, 
about the period principally of the Boundary question, and 
the McLeod difficulty. 

We have boundary questions, which, it is too manifest, that the 
North American republic will struggle hard to convert into means of 
om* injury and humiliation. — Times Leader on the Ministry, February 
24, 1840. 

The enlightened and upright portion of the North American people 
do not form the ruling power therein ; the supreme power is in the 
numerical majority. The numerical majority of the United States are, 
we apprehend, and the impression is a mournful one, among the least 
enlightened and the least conscientious of communities calling them- 
selves " civilized." — Leader on Red^iction of the Navy, March 7, 1840. 

We are bound to resist this overbearing demand of the United 
States, and, if the demand be maintained on their part vi et armis, 
England, vi et armis, must repel it. — Leader, April 18, 1840. 

Save only when that government had placed itself in an attitude 
of indirect, though obvious, offence towards England, by totally failing 
to check, and scarcely failing to encourage, the criminal outrages of 
large bands of armed villains upon the provinces of the Queen of Eng- 
land, into which they carried fire, blood, and desolation. — Leader, 
April 23, 1840. 

The conduct of the people of Maine has proved that their purpose 
is to establish a system of encroachment in all directions ; to push xis 
to the wall wherever they meet with British subjects, or can find them ; 
to wring from us first one specific concession, and so habituate us to 
the practice of yielding, that whenever they begin to bully, we shall 
prepare to yield, and, at last, not have one acre of ground to stand 
upon, — Leader, April 27, 1840. 

Circumstances have been stated, which justify a presumption that 
the report of Colonel Mudge and his colleague is to be relied upon by 
Lord Palmerston, as one of the main vouchers, in the nature of an 
apology, for concessions of British right, more abject and injurious than 
this country has yet beet sufficiently humbled to suffer. — June 27 
1840. 



198 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Any person who paid attention (and who has not ? ) to the clamors 
of the republican newspapers, must have been persuaded, had he not 
known better, that the citizens of the State of Maine were a set of 
the most oppressed and ill-used of God's creatures, — ^lambs worried by 
the prowling wolves of England, — turtle dftves fluttered in their nest, 
— ^stricken and sighing sufferers under wanton injury. — Leader on 
Boundary Report, July 31, 1840. 

For a specimen of solemn gravity, bordering on the ludicrous, a 
parallel to this has seldom presented itself: — " How men pretending, as 
it is to be presumed these do, to any share of public character, could 
come before the world with such an exhibition, is past all comprehen- 
sion except their own." — Leader on Correspondence between Webster and 
Biddle, September 16, 1840. 

The Oregon Question has once or twice already been alluded to by 
Mr. Van Buren in his official messages, though in language sleeh and sly, 
so that in fact it becomes a matter of serious inquiry whether the safer 
policy might not be to fight like men for all our rights at once, than, 
after a dozen pettifogging disputes, to sacrifice them all in succession. — 
February 19, 1841. 

He was as good as any other British subject for a peg on which to 
hang a provocative to war, and plenty of conscientious Yankees, it 
would appear, were at hand to swear his personal presence on board 
the Caroline. — Our relations with France and America, — Mr. McLeod, 
— ^February 19, 1841. 

What will be the course of the British Government ? Need we ask 
the question ? Yes, we must ; although it be one which the country, 
if not the ministers, will promptly answer. The consequences of Mr. 
McLeod's judicial murder must be War. 

The attempt, therefore, to shuffle off the obligation of redress for a 
wrong perpetrated upon Great Britain, in the person of her subject, 
from the United States Government, which originally claimed jurisdic- 
tion over the whole question, upon the shoulders of the State of New- 
York alone, is adding levity and ridicule to insult and oppression. — 
Leader, — McLeod, — ^March 5, 1841. 

A document, which we do not scruple to describe as the most viru- 
lent, unprincipled, and revolting, that has ever disgraced the records 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 199 

of any people, hower immersed in the rudest or most corrupt vice. — 
On Report of Committee on Foreign Affairs to the House of Represen- 
tatives, March 9, 1841. 

As far as the American people have had time to degenerate from 
their British origin into a distinctive national character, we are afraid 
that that character consists, for the most part, in empty pretension 
and puff. Having began their republican career with a deep tincture 
of vanity, occasioned by their successful struggle for independence, and 
having afterwards enjoyed considerable mercantile prosperity, as the 
principal cotton growers for the European markets, they seem to have 
strutted into a precocious and unnatural self-importance, as if their 
political and commercial resources had attained a maturity, which, 
under the guidance of democratic infallibility, rendered every chance 
of miscarriage an inconceivable thing. — Banks, April 16, 1841. 

But that as long as the American Government find that we may be 
trifled with, with impunity, they are willing to gratify the passions of 
the populace, by anticipations of the judicial murder of one of the 
Queen of England's officers : If by any fatal mischance that monstrous 
act should ever be consummated, the horror and disgust of the whole 
civilized world will fall as heavily on the statesman by whom it was 
tolerated, as on the savages by whom it was committed. — McLeod, Au- 
gust 5, 1841. 

It requires we fear a stronger arm than that of the existing Federal 
Government of America, to contz-ol the arrogant, unjust, and turbulent 
spirit which the " pattern democracy " is apt to carry into its contro- 
versies and negotiations with foreign states. The Boundary Question 
has awakened a spirit of direct hostility to England on the Northern 
frontier, the emancipation of the black population of the British 
colonies, in the West Indies, has been witnessed with feelings of rancor 
and dread by the slave States of the South. In private life the 
nefarious abuse of British capital, too confidingly intrusted to a people 
of speculators, has led the Americans to get up a cry against the nation 
they have plundered. — On Relations between England and America, 
August 18, 1841. 

But in spite of all this fume and sputter, we would give the Ame- 
rians any favorable odds they please in betting on the security of 
McLeod's life. We know the infirmities of transatlantic citizenship 



200 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

tolerably well. It is astonishing what big talk and what vmdaunted 
temerity they will make use of in a case like this. 

With such a Minister, equally temperate and uncompromising, we 
cannot doubt that if actual hostilities be providentially averted, the 
Americans will at least be taught a lesson which in future will lead 
them to a truer estimate of their self conceit and arrogance than they 
yet appear to have formed. Pompous bombast in this quarter of the 
world has not gone out of fashion. — McLeod, Oct. 12, 1841. 

If the Americans cannot repress their insolent aggressions upon 
British territory, the Queen of England will assuredly do it for them. 
If a systematic series of outrages must needs be inflicted on the British 
Crown, Her Majesty's forces, instead of abstaining from doing the 
duties of the Alburgh magistracy, will in all probability find ways and 
means of asserting her great national rights under the toalls of New- 
York itself. . And if it must come to that, God send us a good deli- 
verance. — Leader, on General Affairs, Oct. 18, 1841. 

Poor Judge Gridley, — one can scarcely read his elaborate summing 
up, without a compassionate smile ; conceiving that he had to deal with 
the most important cause that had ever agitated the world, the anxious 
functionary seems to have been literally bowed down to the dust under 
the weight of his fancied responsility. The quiet and humble apart- 
ment he set in, became, in his excited imagination, "the solemn temple 
of Justice," the presence of a few straggling Canadians, whom curiosity 
had attracted to the spot, was felt to be so flattering to the solemnity, 
that the judge publicly complimented them as " distinguished actors in 
the scenes of blood and suffering," connected with the suppression of 

the McKenzie rebellion: and after indulging in a long and 

wasteful expenditure of profound judicial saws, the complacent lumi- 
nary was constrained, at last, to let the jury retire. — McLeod's Acquit- 
tal, Nov. 1, 1841. 

We have our laws, and it is mere arrogant impudence, mere 
presuming on English gullibility, to demand of us to govern by any 
other. — 'Detention of the Brig Creole, March 21, 1842. 

A generous concession to a generous claimant is one thing ; to invite 
Brother Jonathan to help himself from our pockets is another : we are 
ready to be liberal, but we must not be bullied into giving half-a-crown 
to a known swindler. — Leader^ Feb. 6, 1842. 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 201 

Frenchmen are sometimes impertinent, Irishmen impudent, "Welch- 
men voluble, Englishmen blustering, Scotchmen cool ; but the conjoint 
coolness, blustering, volubility, impudence, and impertinence of a true 
Yankee, has a height, and depth, and breadth about it, which "flogs" 
each of these nations, in their most characteristic accomplishment. 

The Pennsylvanian farmer or merchant, knows that his creditors, 
gi'umble as they may, cannot pocket the Canadas, or ship off the rail- 
roads. He puts his hands in his pockets, and his feet on the chimney- 
piece, hugs himself in comfort over his growing income, and takes care 
to look for a repudiating representative, in the State Legislature. 

This is, was, and will be the American ciy, "give! give! give!" 
but the English counter cry will be "pay! pay! pay!" Before you 
expect us to entertain a single argument you use — " pay your debts ; " 
till then you have no right to a place among honest nations. Unless 
you come with your money in your hand, and pay down upon delivery, 
buy not at all, barter not at all, — and if you must needs be negotiat- 
ing, negotiate with the convicts of Botany Bay. — Leader, Nov. 14, 1843. 

That such views as these should be current among the people, is, 
perhaps, what the holders of Pennsylvanian bonds might expect, dis- 
creditable but natm-al : but that they should be deliberately promulgat- 
ed by the highest authority in the United States, in his most solemn of- 
ficial manifesto, is an additional and unnecessary dishonor, arising, as 
we have said, from the practice of requiring from that personage an an- 
nual palaver in extenso for the satisfaction of an unprincipled though 
"/ree and enlightened'^ public. — On President' s Ifessage, Dec. 29, 1843. 

The change in the tone of the Times from that period, 
is almost startling in its abruptness. They can now talk of 
" consideration for the feelings of a people so nearly con- 
nected with ourselves." They seemed formerly ignorant 
that we had any feelings at all — and I must confess, that 
considering the intimacy of the connection, they have been 
somewhat tardy in making the discovery. It appears that 
the danger of the fishery question plead much more power- 
fully in our behalf than these tenderly chronicled ties of 
consanguinity. The rest of the press following in the dis- 
tance the bolder strides of their leader, now honor us with 
9* 



202 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the appellation of " our rivals in commerce and arms," and 
courteously discourse upon the sort of consideration with 
which "so powerful a nation" should be treated. The 
Times can now pathetically enlarge upon the probable in- 
convenience to American fishermen, which must arise from 
the hasty proceedings of the Derby administration, and in 
a tone of chiding remonstrance to the government, they ob- 



it is more than probable that American fishermen have been tres- 
passing, but their trespass has been so far unheeded, that notice of 
altered resohitions on our part might have been fairly expected, while 
the true interests of both countries are so plainly dependent on good 
understanding and reciprocal concessions, that the very last resort 
should have been to any proceeding which might resemble a menace. 
Least of all should a crisis have been selected for the experiment, when 
the preparations of the fishermen were too far advanced to be stopped, 
and when the ordinary good sense of the community was so suspended 
by constitutional incidents as to leave it at the control of even an Irish 
mob. 

It appears that even the Times can be extremely mild 
and conciliatory in its tone towards America, though dis- 
cussing a question calculated to develope all its proneness to 
vituperation. What could be gentler than the following 
extract, in which they remonstrate more in sorrow than anger 
with the Americans for their somewhat intemperate pro- 
ceedings. " The sweet south " would scarcely breathe more 
softly " o'er a bank of violets," than comes the bewailing 
censure of the following : 

Long usage, previous concessions, and even arguments of a broader 
and more general kind, suggest that the question should be treated in 
a liberal and conciliatory spirit ; but the law of the case, to which the 
Americans have so intemperately appealed, is decidedly against them; 
and while we regret that measures calculated to irritate a sensitive 
nation should have been so hastily adopted, we are constrained to ol>- 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 203 

serve that their own proceedings have been equally precipitate, and 
that such views as were expressed in the Senate are ill adapted to 
promote a settlement of the dispute. It is no credit to either State that 
its first step on an occasion like this should have been to equip war- 
steamers for action, and we trust that the awakening sense of both 
countries may speedily dispatch the affair by a more reasonable appeal. 

To speak of England and America as equals, is certainly 
a novel idea — and actually to appeal to our " sense," as if 
we were reasonable people, is a condescension in Mr. Times, 
of which we bowie-knife barbarians should feel properly 
sensible. It certainly didn't use to be so. 

What a change in their notions of our importance is 
developed in the following from the same paper : 

The Disastrous "War at the Cape. — While all eyes are intent on 
the threatening aspect of the storm which seems about to break upon 
us from the north-west, our attention is for the moment diverted by 
one of the periodical accounts of the tempest which has been so long 
raging in the south-east. From the icy shores and stormy seas of New- 
foundland and Nova Scotia we are abruptly recalled to the desert 
plains and burning rocks of South Africa. Sandilli takes the place of 
Ml". "Webster, and the capture and recapture of sheep and cattle replace 
the contest which is going on for the possession of unconscious cod and 
mackerel. 

They seem suddenly made aware, that America can raise 
a storm. No '" tempest in a teapot," but a veritable squall 
along the '• icy banks and stormy seas of Newfoundland and 
Nova Scotia," fierce enough to make " Britannia " slightly 
apprehensive, though she does "rule the waves." They 
seem to consider us of too much importance to be wholly 
despised — and have actually elevated us to the rare dis- 
tinction of being mentioned in the same category with the 
rebellious Hottentots and savage Caffres, who have been 
summarily thrashing all the commanders-in-chief the govern- 
ment has successively sent out for tlic last twelve months. 



204 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

It appears from the following extract, that even the 
Times has concluded that our just ire cannot be excited 
with impunity — and has recently become convinced that 
" it cannot be the part of sound statesmanship " to " arouse 
the temper " of our people. 

If we have rights, which, after long negligence, we now choose to 
enforce — well and good ; but it at least behooves us to afford the adverse 
party fair notice of, and full reason for, our altered proceedings. Es- 
pecially this behooves ua when dealing with the United States, whose 
government is influenced, whether it will or not, by every prevalent 
temper of their people. To arouse the temper of that people by any 
unexpected proceeding, wearing a hostile aspect, cannot be the part of 
sound statesmanship. Unfortunately our " Conservative " statesmen, 
in dealing with the Americans, are apt to miss the just and dignified 
medium, between truckling and bullying. Where Lord Aberdeen be- 
trayed alacrity to capitulate. Lord Malmesbury indicates velleities to 
menace. Mr. Webster communicates to the Boston Courier the copy 
of a dispatch from Mr. Everett, United States Minister in London in 
1845, transmitting a note of Lord Aberdeen, to the efi'ect that the Brit- 
ish government had come to the determination to concede to American 
fishermen the right of pursuing their occupation within the Bay of Fiin- 
dy. If this document is cited accurately, a pretty picture is presented 
of that school of statesmen who, seven years back, made our American 
friends a gratuitous present of those very rights which they now, all of 
a sudden, send vessels of war to vindicate. — Globe. 

How anxious they now are to claim us as relations, 
whom they formerly most delighted to villify, appears from 
the " Globe " comments : — 

Whatever abruptness there has appeared in the manner of proceed- 
ing on our part, no substantial ground of offence has been given by that 
proceeding to our i*epublican kinsfolk. It can be no substantial ground 
of offence to enforce admitted rights — rights infringed admittedly. But 
it-is convenient io infringe theral It is. In such cases, rights must 
either be appropriated by robbery, or obtained by purchase. 

The " Republican kinsfolk " are growing in importance. 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 205 

and consequently in the intimacy of the family ties, that 
they have been something less than a century in recollecting. 
They can now acknowledge superior enterprise to Ameri- 
cans in something at least. 

"We are induced on good information to believe, that the superior 
success of the Americans is mainly attributable to the superior method 
they adopt in capturing the fish. Whilst the operations of our fisher- 
men are limited to the boat-shore fishing, thej are engaged in the bank 
and deep-sea fishing. In the net and seine fishing they are likewise in 
advance of our fishermen. The superior system adopted in the cod and 
mackerel fishery bj the Americans, would of itself account for the dis- 
parity between their prosperous voyages and the scanty catch of the 
Colonial fishermen of those descriptions of fish. In Sir Charles Ly ell's 
" Second Visit to the United States," we find the following passage 
[vol. II., p. 356], which affords additional illustration of the like sources 
of success as those above indicated in Brother Jonathan's fishing and 
other enterprises. Brother Jonathan "looks alive," and keeps awake. 

It seems indubitable that there is •' danger " in disturb- 
ing the amicable relations according to " the Chronicle." 

But in addition to the injury which his selfish and unconstitutional 
course is inflicting on the commercial interests of the community, we 
have, in the pending dispute on the subject of the American fisheries, a 
still more striking proof of the mischief and danger of prolonging the pre- 
sent political uncertainty. In the first place, with regard to the fiscal part 
of the question. Sir John Pakington has taken a step which gravely com- 
promises the relations between this country and our American colonies, 
and which is in direct contravention to the spii-it of that Free-trade policy 
which it is certain that the new Parliament will decidedly maintain. If 
the legislature had been sitting, would it have permitted the Colonial Se- 
cretary to sanction the Colonial proposition for bounties ? And if it would 
not, is it not plain that the country has been jockeyed, against its delibe- 
rate will, into tliis little trick of Transatlantic protection ? But this is the 
least important aspect of the affair. As regards the more serious question 
of our amicable relations with the United States, the imminent danger 
of intrusting so delicate a negotiation to a "moribund" Government 
is but too apparent. 



206 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

But this question of the '-'• danger ^^ of trifling with 
America, is put beyond all cavil by the " Times>" 

We are informed upon the authority of Ministerial organs, that the 
whole question has now been virtually settled by liberal negotiation ; 
and so easy and desirable was such a result, that we can scarcely dis- 
credit the report; but the intelligence of Monday announces that 
American cruisers are actually on their way to the fishing grounds, 
and no limit can be put to the danger of a policy which brings the 
ships of two such nations as Great Britain and the States into 
menacing, if not hostile presence. 

The two following are from the " Chronicle." 

Tli£ grave misunderstanding between tliis country and the Uni£ed 
States, to which the question of the American fisheries has given rise 
— and which appears to be daily growing more serious — will go a long 
way to dispel any amiable prejudices which enthusiastic persons may 
entertain in favor of improvising Secretaries of State. Sir John 
Pakington and Lord Malmesbury have contrived, by their ignorance 
and folly, to blunder into a position in which it is impossible for them 
either to advance with justice, or to retreat with honor. 

Even if we judge the conduct of ministers from their own view of 
what is expedient, they might at least have known that the Americans 
are about the last people in the world from whom any thing is to be 
obtained by bluster and bullying. There are no two countries in 
which national jealousies take fire so qtdckly, or rage so fiercely, on 
questions of foreign politics, as in England and the United States. In 
dealing with a free people like the Americans, it is above all things 
necessary that, before a claim is preferred — and, much more, before 
any attempt is made to enfoi-ce it — its exigency and validity should be 
clearly ascertained and established. It aj^pears, however, that Lord 
Malmesbury has proceeded to the extreme measure of seizing American 
vessels, on grounds which are totally inadequate to justify such a step. 
It is impossible to contemplate without painful uneasiness the conse- 
quences of so rash and foolish an exploit. 

These extracts from the Chronicle intimate a rather 
more flnttrring estimate of oiir national importance than 



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA. 207 

English journals were wont formerly to contain. But it 
would be the height of injustice not to allow the Times to 
" sum up " on this subject. Hear him and wonder. 

Late Dispute with America. — The Colonies mid Protection. — By 
this time we hope our dispute with the United States of America is 
over, and we trust that all parties will return without delay to those 
amicable feelings and friendly relations which our Government has so 
needlessly disturbed. It is not, however, of the obvious and glaring 
errors of the Government of England, or the wild and precipitate pro- 
ceedings of the American Legislature, that we wish now to speak. 
Our desire is to make the .danger we have just escaped the subject of 
a few practical reflections, which we submit to the good sense of the 
English nation. We have been on the verge of a war with a nation 
which, from its identity in race and language with ourselves, would 
have proved a truly formidable enemy — a maritime and commercial 
people who would have met us with our own arms, on our own 
element, and visited our commerce with mischiefs similar to those 
which we should have inflicted upon theirs. So closely are the two 
countries united, that every injury which we might inflict on our 
enemy would have been almost as injurious to our merchants as bom- 
barding our own towns, or sinking our own ships. And yet it is no 
exaggeration to say that with this people we were on the very verge 
of war, for, had we persevered in carrying out with a high hand, by 
seizure and confiscation, our own interpretation of the treaty, a colli- 
sion with the American Commodore was unavoidable ; and such a 
collision must almost necessarily have been followed by a formal declara- 
tion of hostilities. Now, what is the question which has so nearly led 
to such serious results ? It is simply whether a certain quantity of the 
salt fish consumed in these islands shall be caught by citizens of the 
United States or natives of our own colonies. The question whether 
American fishermen shall be allowed to spread their nets in the Bay 
of Fundy is one in which the people of this country have no imagina- 
ble interest; they will neither be richer nor poorer, stronger nor 
weaker, more admired or more feared, should they secure the monopoly 
of fishing in these northern waters to the inhabitants of the sea-coast 
of our North American colonies. 

I find a very appropriate termination for my extracts in 
the Examiner. 



208 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

The Retreat. — ^We said last week that the English ministry would 
have to beat a hasty and disgraceful retreat in the American brawl. 
Already it has done so. The act of cowardice has followed hard on 
that of bluster and defiance, and the Americans remain not only 
masters of what they had, but gainers of considerably more. It is 
announced by the organs of the ministry that the matter in dispute has 
been amicably arranged between Lord Malmesbury and Mr. Abbott 
Lawrence, the former agreeing to throw open to the United States all 
the British fisheries at greater distances than three miles from our 
coasts, and the latter making the same concession to England of the 
American fisheries. Thus every point in question is given up on the 
English side, while at the same time, by what the Standard calls " an 
arrangement of perfect reciprocity," the Americans give up nothing at 
all, and get a great deal. If there had been any other fisheries worth 
naming in these American waters except those off our own coasts, the 
brawl could never have arisen. 

I shall make no comments on the miraculous change of 
tone towards America, in the press, or rather in the Times, 
which is a synopsis of the press, from 1840 to 1852. The 
extracts I have made at the two periods speak for themselves. 
I will simply ask my readers whether they believe this very 
perceptible change to result from the fact of England's 
having more interests to protect now than then, or from her 
having, by some mysterious process, become aware that we 
are rather more powerful than she imagined when she talked 
blood and powder about the Boundary question and the 
McLeod difficulty ? Was it the sense of danger, or gentle 
" consideration " for our " feelings," which has produced so 
marvellous a contrast in the style of addressing us ? Was 
it prudence or affection which dictated the change ? Have 
we grown so much better, or so much more powerful in the 
opinion of the English press, that we are now treated with 
something like the respect usually extended towards other 
nations ? Has " the Times " became more tolerant of a nation 
of swindlers, or has policy suggested a little flattering deceit 1 
Again I say the extracts speak for themselves. 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 209 



CHAPTER VI. 

ENGLISH MANNEES. 

IT is not surprising that an Englishman should be awk- 
ward, and reserved in his manners. In his apprehension 
of addressing some one above or below him, he lives like a 
man on a sharp fence between a mad bull and biting dog. 
If he rashly ventures down on one side, some haughty supe- 
rior may contemptuously toss him ; and if he cautiously 
slides off on the other, he incurs the danger of being pulled 
down and worried by an inferior. Either catastrophe would 
be equally terrible in its results to him ; and his only alter- 
native is to remain mum, and bolt upright. How could an 
individual under such circumstances be otherwise than con- 
strained, unnatural, and ill at ease. 

Such is his life, his only consolation being in venting his 
ill-humor on dependents. He delights in creating a sensation 
in public places by blustering among the waiters. He is fond 
of displaying his breeding by ordering unusual or impossible 
things. Nothing seems to afford him such exquisite enjoy- 
ment as setting a whole establishment in commotion. It is 
ludicrously terrific to witness the emphatic fierceness with 
which he will thump the table, and noisily declare his deter- 
mination not to leave it, till his demands, however absurd or 
unreasonable they may be. have been complied with. Such 
conduct cannot fail, in his opinion, to inspire all beholders 
with respect, and to impress them with high notions of his 



210 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

aristocratic rearing. He grumbles on principle, and finds 
fault in order to be well served. He makes it a rule never 

to express himself satisfied witli any thing that is done for 
him. He is afraid to appear pleased. He laboriously avoids 
manifesting any thing like enthusiasm in public places of 
amusement, and never acknowledges the slightest pleasure 
at any entertainment however sumptuous. If he did, peo- 
ple might suppose that he had never been accustomed to any 
thing better ; whilst it is his darling wish to produce the im- 
pression that he was " born so high," that nothing gotten up 
by inferior mortals for his amusement could merit his appro- 
bation. His tastes are too refined, his habits too luxurious 
to be gratified among the herd. Content is plebeian, and ap- 
plause decidedly vulgar. A peasant can feel one, "the 
groundlings " do the other. An English gentleman should 
consequently know neither. How could he be guilty of 
such injustice to his caste, as to appear amused by what 
other people took interest in ? And besides, if he should so 
far forget himself, as to appear contented with what he or- 
dered of a menial, the English would immediately conclude 
that he was*not much accustomed to being waited on. So 
after all, if an Englishman was not morose by nature, the 
trammels of the society in which he lives would inevitably 
make him so. Circumstances compel him to be noisy, blus- 
tering, and bullying, with those whose services his money 
temporarily commands ; whilst it is equally incumbent on 
him to be silent and forbidding among those whose position 
in life he is not perfectly well assured of It would be as 
shocking to his sense of his own importance in encouraging 
the advances of others, to be contaminated by familiar in- 
tercourse with an individual of inferior pretensions, as to 
be snubbed in too boldly addressing somebody, whose rank 
conferred on him the privilege of being rude. He can never 
approach a stranger without braving this double danger ; 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 211 

consequently the delicate nerves of snobbishness make him 
keep his distance and hold his peace. 

During my wanderings in the East, I became acquainted 
at Jerusalem with a wealthy English banker, whose chief 
delight was to boast of his noble connections, and aristocra- 
tic associations. He had travelled much, though with no 
decided advantage to a naturally contracted and violently 
prejudiced mind. He was far from being either intellectual 
or well informed ; and yet he was an extremely entertaining 
companion, from the unsuspecting display of such a cata- 
logue of absurdities, as is rarely possessed even by an Eng- 
lishman. Among very many extraordinary and highly amus- 
ing disclosures he was daily in the habit of making to us, 
with regard to himself and his country, he on one occasion 
alluded to the inexorable nature of the laws governing fash- 
ionable circles in England. He informed us that it was 
destruction to a man's position in society to wander, even 
inadvertently, beyond the confines of his particular class ; 
and in illustration of his remark, related a little adventure 
which had once occurred to himself. He was one night dur- 
ing the fall of the year going from Dover to Ostend. It 
was bitterly cold, and sleeting in that driving-piercing sort 
of way, only observable in England and off her coasts. 
Scarcely had they emerged from the dock when they disco- 
vered it was extremely rough. Our banker found it impos- 
sible to remain in the cabin below, which was soon rendered 
noisome by the number of seasick passengers, who had taken 
refuge there from the weather. His only alternative there- 
fore was to continue on deck, exposed to the pitiless storm 
that was then raging. During the somewhat melancholy re- 
flections produced by his situation, for, singularly enough, he 
happened to be without an overcoat, a strange gentleman of 
remarkably prepossessing appearance approached him, and 
discovering his forlorn condition, politely begged his accept- 



212 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

ance of a heavy coat wMcli lie had with him, in addition to 
the one he himself wore. The proffered ce * -^u"' 

accepted by our shivering acquaintance, who 
for words sufi&ciently to thank the unknown 
unexpected a kindness. So agreeable an iv 
turally led them into conversation. The ba. 
ed with the other. He discovered that in ao 
unusually graceful manners, he was a man of u ^ntc 

ligence and rare information. So much was Lo delighteu 
with his new friend, that they spent the night together c. 
deck, conversing on a multitude of different subjects, of 
which the stranger possessed the same familiar knowledge 
The banker was as much impressed by his appearance an^ 
address, as he was charmed by the very extraordinary po 
ers of conversation he continued to display during the wb^i'' 
voyage. In parting with him on the pier at Ostend, 
warmly acknowledged his indebtedness to hi -^ss, sa 

expressed a hope to have the pleasure of his f -.jua 

ance. But previous to his making some /?*^'m.. i,<> show 
appreciation of the obligation under which i . anger hat 
placed him, his caution suggested the proprie ^^f makin^ 
some inquiries as to who he was, as he might oly com 

promise himself by some unworthy associatio^i. " What,'' 
continued he in his relation of the anecdote to us, " wa? - 
consternation in discovering that he was a "n-drape 

who was about to make a short tour on the Th« 

presence of such a man I could never acknow ^ 

a bow, without seriously endangering my o 
I determined if possible to shun him, not ■ 
occasion of any unnecessary mortification . 
been polite to me. But the fates had ordai 
What was my horror when, that very morni 
face to face in the street. What was I to d-^ 
ed I had a position in society to maintain, sc 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 213 

returned his polite bow with a surprised stare, that was 
"i^' -'tre what insolent fellow presumed to bow to 

i'ntroduction ? I was sorry to do it, for I must 
lat I have rarely met a man with whose man- 
^^'Tsation I felt so much pleased ; but his occu- 
»^d the possibility of my so far demeaning my- 
iknowledge that such a person had had it in his 
powo v/i'ige me. Besides, if I had even coldly returned 

his salutail'on, he might on some future occasion have had 
;<;he impertinence to bow to me at the opera, or in Regent- 
^^-eet, which would have ruined me with all my West-end 
acquaintances. The only course left me, was the one I pur- 
sued — ttt cut him in the beginning. It very probably saved 
v/Oth of as much future annoyance." This wholesale shaver 
f«r,r1;his man of flint, who preys upon the necessities, and 
9*1 ves by tho.misfortunes of his fellow men, felt contaminated 
%y rec^ • ^'kindness from a haberdasher, because, for- 
i.ijth, wgnifiedby the elephantine title of Banker. 

.lat opiiix^x/ "^ ■'1st we entertain of the mind and heart of a 
jiaan, wb ic iii<u unfeelingly insult another, whose bearing 
shad so ta {rably impressed him, simply because he pursued 
■?^ occu^ ,,..' less fashionable, 'tis true, but equally as re- 
spectable c^^d far more honest than his own ? What esti- 
-.TK. fce can we place upon the refinement of the society which 
"fsonapels * ■'*>itims to descend to low-bred vulgarity and 
tbruta^ I m order to retain in it their positions ? A 

T}! "■ '^-^-carious, as to be endangered by the simple 

i/: ■■ of a favor to the humblest man who was 

ttL "me to be scarcely worth having. Had there 

b.:. ^culiarly repulsive in the man's appearance, 

his manners, — had the banker discovered 
-n^t he had been engaged in some disreputable 
-t suspicions however vague had ever been 
hyr' -iist the integrity of his past conduct, he might 



214 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

have been excusable for formally expressing his thanks, and 
afterwards treating him with sufficient coldness of manner 
plainly to intimate that he desired no greater intimacy. 
But when he himself had declared the stranger to be a most 
delightful companion, and had candidly acknowledged the 
decided suffering from which his polite offer of his coat had 
relieved him, his conduct was a barbarity which an English- 
man only could perpetrate. How insecure must be the 
basis of that rank, which could be toppled over by a nod of 
recognition to a man whose only offence was in being a re- 
tail merchant. What contempt must we feel for a nation 
who professes to despise trade, when trade made England 
what she is. How completely must all magnanimity be en- 
veloped in the fog of absurd superstitions about rank, when 
honest industry can be regarded as a disgrace. 

It would be folly to express a doubt of England's wide- 
spread influence. It would be worse than prejudice to deny 
the honor, with which her representatives are received at all 
foreign courts. Her flag is known and respected in every sea. 
Her power is acknowledged, and her resentment feared by 
every nation of the older continents. The rights of her hum- 
blest citizens are respected in the remotest countries — for her 
subjects bear with them into the most distant climes assurances 
of her protection. She has always redressed the injuries done 
to individuals, as outrages to herself The affair of Don Pa- 
cifico and the Greek government is too recent to require more 
than a passing allusion. I was in Athens during the embargo 
by the English fleet. I saw a king harassed — a friendly power 
threatened — and the whole nation distressed, because the 
Athenian mob had been pleased incontinently to batter Don 
Pacifico's pet warming-pan. Yes, that immortal Bay, which 
had witnessed the destruction of Xerxes' thousand ships, I 
saw desecrated by the presence of a hostile fleet, because the 
ingenious Don considered it safest to throw himself upon the 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 215 

protection of the English government, on the authority of 
an antiquated passport, dated some twenty or thirty years 
back, at Gibraltar. So far as regarded the proof of Pacifico's 
citizenship, the passport might just as well been dated in the 
moon, or some other distant planet. But England showed 
to the world that a man, even professing to be an English 
subject, could claim, and receive her protection. Even in 
the last few months, a prime minister has been hooted by 
all classes of his own countrymen, and two friendly powers 
have been kept- in hot water, because young Mr. Mather had 
been maltreated by an Austrian officer, in Florence. And 
although redress was sought, and obtained, yet the almost 
entire press of the country united in reviling the imbecility 
of Lord Derby's government, in not insisting upon some re- 
tribution, more in accordance with the offence. 

The civilized world has reason to be grateful to England 
for the promptness with which she has always punished any 
nation, that dared to assail a citizen of hers. This influence 
is felt in the remotest countries of the East, into which trav- 
ellers ever penetrate. 1 have, myself, enjoyed the advan- 
tages of it, and here make my acknowledgments. In Turkey, 
Syria, and Egypt, all Franks and Howadjis are confounded 
with Englishmen. And Germans, Frenchmen, and Ameri- 
cans, profit by the mistake. The summary manner in which 
British representatives have more than once proceeded, has 
taught these bigots that their nation, at least, must be sacred 
from persecution and insult. These semi-barbarians seem 
apprehensive, that the English fleets will come stalking 
across their sandy plains, like the wooden horse up to the 
walls of Troy. And so exaggerated an opinion do they en- 
tertain of England's power, that the curse of their Prophet 
is scarcely more dreaded than the terrors of her ire. 

Previous to the conquest of Syria by Ibrahim Pasha, 
the heroic son of Mehemet Ali, no Christian was permitted 



216 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

to enter the gates of Damascus on horseback. All Franks 
were compelled to assume the most abject humility in the 
presence of a native, and they were altogether excluded from 
certain quarters entirely occupied by the residences of 
Turks. When Ibrahim asserted the conqueror's right to 
the direction of affairs, he very greatly alleviated the condition 
of the few Christian inhabitants of the city, and decidedly 
diminished the annoyances of travellers. All these absurd 
restrictions were abolished, and never resumed, although the 
citizens of Damascus still continued the most bigoted of the 
Turkish dominions. On a certain occasion, some years ago, 
an English traveller was curiously peering into the outer 
court of the principal mosque in Damascus. He did not 
enter, as he was well aware of the insane fury of the Maho- 
metans against any Frank, who should dare to desecrate their 
fanes by his presence. But the bigoted people in the neigh- 
borhood determined to regard his inoffensive conduct as a 
pollution of the sacred character of the place, and immedi- 
ately commenced an assault with mud and stones, which, be- 
coming fiercer every minute, must have proved fatal, had not 
the poor tourist fled for refuge to the house of tbe English 
Consul, which fortunately happened to be not far distant. 
The Consul at once demanded satisfaction for so flagrant an 
outrage. The Pasha was apparently most active in his in- 
quiries, but professed to be altogether unable to discover the 
perpetrators of the insult. The Consul promptly demanded 
the arrest of every male inhabitant of that quarter of the 
city, and insisted upon subjecting them all to the punish- 
ment that some of them had so richly merited. The Pasha 
demurred, but finally he attempted a compromise, by pro- 
posing that the punishment should be inflicted in private. 
But the Consul would listen to no such proposition; and! 
England being a name of fear, the Pasha was compelled to 
submit, and some two or three hundred of these bigots were 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 21*7 

bastinadoed by a detachment of soldiers in the Public 
Square. The example of several hundred delinquents un- 
dergoing this fearful punishment at the same time, was not 
soon to be forgotten by the Damascenes ; and England, 
and Europeans, have been respected highly ever since. 
The proceeding must seem harsh and unjust to us, but it 
was altogether in accordance with Oriental notions of jus- 
tice, which makes whole sections of the country responsible 
for the crimes committed in their boundaries. The appre- 
hension of a general punishment makes of all the inhab- 
itants a vigilant police, for the detection of thieves and 
murderers. Some such act of severity too, was essentially 
necessary to impress these zealots with becoming ideas of 
the inviolability of the persons of the Franks. • 

Nineteen hundred years ago Cnesar found Britain the 
puny possession of savages — and the Romans left them more 
civilized, 'tis true, but still, unable to defend themselves 
from the attacks of their more powerful neighbors on the 
other side of the Tweed. From an origin so humble, she 
has risen to be the most powerful nation on the globe. 
Once an inconsiderable island, with an area about equal to 
our State of Missouri, her colors now float from the citadels 
of 44 colonies, scattered over the known world, besides 
her vast possessions in India. Her rule is acknowledged by 
nearly 200,000,000 of people. She sustains a standing army 
of 100,000 men, and a navy of 198 ships in commission, with 
33,759 seamen and marines. Her merchant service is esti- 
mated at 4,144,115 tons, and she sustains a vast national 
debt, whose interest alone annually amounts to $141,269,160. 
For a nation, who from such a beginning has produced such 
results, I can but feel an exalted admiration. But my con- 
tempt surpasses my admiration, when I remember that the}'- 
are ashamed of what has made them great. Instead of 
erecting statues to commerce in every public square — instead 
10 



218 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of placing tablets at the corners of all the principal thorough- 
fares, expressive of the nation's gratitude to trade, they piti- 
fully profess to despise those engaged in commercial pur- 
suits. What were they till commerce lent her helping hand ? 
Alternately the defenceless prey of Romans, Picts and 
Scots, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, England was only 
known among nations, as the convenient conquest of any 
marauding horde of barbarians, whose own possessions were 
too narrow, or too poor to content them. Commerce first 
taught them the art of self-defence, and gave them strength 
to maintain it. Commerce brought them wealth. Com 
merce made them powerful, and ministered to their glory. 
Yet in their degradation, they have branded commerce as 
unworthy to -associate with the descendants of their Norman 
enslavers. The poverty of their language never appears so 
lamentable as when we seek for expletives worthy of such 
meanness. What shall we call such conduct 1 'Tis little- 
ness in Titan mould ! 

A genuine Englishman delights in rendering himself 
conspicuous by the multitude of his wants. If on board a 
steamer, where the number of servants is necessarily limited, 
he will send one waiter for roast beef, another for a bottle 
of porter — will order a third, as he approaches the gentle- 
man sitting next him, who has had nothing to eat, to hand 
him the radishes, and then complains to the head steward 
that he can get nobody to wait on him. In the meanwhile, 
he helps himself successively to every thing he can reach, by 
sticking his elbows into other people's faces, and pronounces 
all he tastes unbearable. His beef arrives, which he eyes 
scornfully, and with upturned nose pushes off from him. He 
once more bawls for the head steward, and sarcastically asks 
to be informed what he calls that on his plate. " Roast 
beef, I think, sir." '-Roast beef, is it? Well, I should 
say that, whatever it may be, it is not fit to be put 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 219 

into a gentleman's moutli." He then continues confiden- 
tially to announce to the whole table — whilst professedly 
addressing the steward — that the cook does not understand 
his business, that the carvers do not know how to carve, and 
that he has found nothing since he has been on board that 
he could eat ; although he has been daily in the habit of 
employing two-thirds of all the servants within call, and 
devouring every thing he could lay his hands on. The eager 
haste, amounting almost to a scramble, with which an Eng- 
lishman seeks to have himself helped before everybody else, 
appears to me strangely unbecoming in a gentleman, — espe- 
cially in situations where the wants of all are certain to be 
attended to, with the exercise of a slight degree of patience. 
But he seems to imagine there is distinction in being first 
served, even when he is compelled to resort to unseemly 
haste to secure the doubtful honor. He considers selfish- 
ness knowing, and a total disregard of the comfort of other 
people as eminently indicative of an aristocratic turn of 
mind. He is nervously apprehensive of showing the slight- 
est attention even to a lady at table, such, for instance, as 
passing her the salt or filling her wine-glass. He is haunted 
by the spectral fear that somebody might construe such an 
encroachment upon the duties of the waiter into evidence of 
his having emerged from some obscure position. Such scru- 
pulous attention to the preservation of his rank would natural- 
ly imply the consciousness of being in a new position, of which 
he was not altogether secure. What man among us, really 
entitled to the consideration of a gentleman, would be agitated 
by such absurd apprehensions. A man, really certain of his 
position in society, would scarcely fear a sacrifice of it by 
so simple an act of politeness. An Englishman is always 
excessively anxious to have his seat near the head even of a 
public table, as in England the rank of the guests is deter- 
mined by the arrangement of their seats. But it seems to 



220 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

me that true nobility would confer honor on the place — not 
borrow honor from it. Whatever its position at table might 
be, there, it appears to me, would the seat of distinction 
always be. And when a vulgarian does succeed in rudely 
elbowing his way to the head of the table, the mere fact of 
his being there could scarcely impose him even on English- 
men as a gentleman. 

In ordering his wine, he always pronounces the name of 
the brand in an unnecessarily loud voice, that the whole ta- 
ble may be made aware of " what an extravagant dog it is;" 
but he at the same time takes good care to add in an under- 
tone to the waiter, " a half -bottle^ mind ye." He is pecu- 
liarly knowing in all the varieties of wines, especially after 
having examined the brand on the cork. He first sternly 
regards the waiter who has just filled his order, and then 
proceeds minutely to inspect the bottle, with a sapient wag 
of the head, which plainly indicates that he suspects some 
trickery, though it is altogether useless to '• try it on so old 
a stager" as himself He never appears to think of tasting 
the wine to ascertain its quality, and seems altogether ob- 
livious that new wine is sometimes put into old bottles. 
When satisfied as to the identity of the brand and bottle, 
he smacks his lips with afi"ected gusto, and never fails to 
remark for the edification of the company generally, that he 
is just then engaged in drinking the very best wine ever 
exported. What a lucky chap it is, not only to know, but 
to be able to order the very best wine that is exported. He 
is never so happy as when descanting upon the rival merits 
of high-priced wines. He professes to be intensely inter- 
ested in the dates of the different vintages, and uncommonly 
well posted up on the yield of the various chateaux. He 
will order some French dish among the entries^ and pro- 
nounce it in such a manner that nobody can understand him. 
He will have all the servants on board, and both stewards, 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 221 

in confusion, running to him with the different si(fe dishes, 
till he has succeeded in collecting them all in stately array 
before him, when he finds himself in the mortifying predica- 
ment of not knowing what he wants himself He, however, 
flies into a passion, abuses the servants, " talks sharp" to 
the steward, and seems proud of the staring attention he 
attracts. He is marvellously discriminating in cheeses, and 
particularly nice about tea. It is his ordinary custom to 
kick up a daily rumpus at the table because the waiters will 
persist in confounding Wiltshire with Stilton, the latter of 
which he always prefers, and usually ends the uproar by 
having all the cheeses on board, English, Dutch and Ameri- 
can, passed in grand review before him. He travels with his 
own private tea-caddy of Russian tea, which he orders forth 
every morning at breakfast with an imposing loftiness of man- 
ner one might ascribe to his tea-drinking Highness, the Em- 
peror of China. Whilst pouring on the hot water, which he 
always does himself, to avoid the possibilit}'- of tricks with 
his precious Russia, he sympathizingly wonders how human 
beings can endure the dishwater stuff with which they 
drench the rest of the passengers. As an act of Oriental 
condescension, he will occasionally invite sonie peculiarly 
favored individual to come sit beside him, and imbibe honor 
and inspiration from his squat black teapot. He will in- 
quire en 'passant^ if it is a regulation of this particular ship 
never to change the napkins on the dinner-table. He is 
eternally fussing about the number of towels furnished in his 
room, and invariably appropriates, in addition to his own, 
those intended for his room-mate. He appears impressed 
with the notion that it is his bounden duty to busy himself 
about the general management of the vessel. He is constant- 
ly reporting delinquent servants to the head steward, and is 
apparently the only person among a hundred and fifty passen- 
gers who never can have any thing done for him. Of course, a 



222 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

gentleman who requires so much waiting on, and makes 
such a noise, must necessarily be an individual of distinction 
and importance, and he impresses the English flunkies and 
the English waiters accordingly, — though the disgust he 
inspires is almost universal among the American passengers. 
He will volunteer a stupid song, and sing it badly, and tells 
long stories, at which nobody laughs but himself. After 
dinner, he cracks nuts and disgusting jokes, for the amuse- 
ment of those who have been sea-sick and still feel a " lee- 
tle uncomfortable," and regards it as quite a triumph to 
drive some unfortunate from the table. Notwithstanding 
his disgust for every thing put on the table, he never omits 
a meal, but breakfasts, lunches, dines, takes tea and sups, 
with a regularity, and to an extent, truly surprising. Actu- 
ated by the generous impulses of a public-spirited individual, 
he seems resolved that the captain shall have no delicacy 
on his table which he himself cannot share. He will order 
some rare dish, and, when told that it is not on the bill of 
fare, he will declare his conviction that he saw it on the 
captain's table at lunch, and rudely express a determination 
to have it if it be on board. He manifests his admirable 
sense of decency and neatness by eyeing with frowning dis- 
trust his plate, which he proceeds furiously to rub, and then 
diligently scours his knife and fork, in nervous apprehension 
of lurking dirt. He throws his head back with a knowing 
jerk in the accomplishment of this interesting proceeding, 
and looks around for applause among the passengers, as 
much as to say, " follow my example, gentlemen ; I am an 
old traveller, and am resolved not to be unnecessarily has- 
tened in taking ' my peck of dirt' by being confined to these 
filthy steamers." He will permit no waiter to help a pas- 
senger from a favorite dish which happens to be near him, 
but he helps plates himself, and the unconquerable greedi- 
ness of the man protrudes itself in the very ample manner 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 223 

in which he piles up his own plate, and the rather dainty provi- 
sion he makes for other people. I cannot resist the tempta- 
tion to allude to the somewhat extraordinary conduct of an 
official personage from England, whom we happened to have 
on board the Baltic, in crossing the Atlantic last spring. 
He never omitted at a single dinner during the entire voy- 
age to display his extravagant profusion, by ordering the 
most expensive description of champagne, but, with the 
usual prudence of an Englishman, he was always particular 
in taking it in a half-hottle^ which he swallowed in solitary 
grandeur. He had several friends, but no one of them was 
ever invited to take wine with him. Indeed, having early 
discovered that the allowance of wine which his parsimony 
permitted him to enjoy was insufficient to be shared even 
with his wife, he earnestly insisted that this meek-minded 
person should drink ^jior^er, as it was so much more ''whole- 
some" than champagne. The poor little woman was an 
American, whom he had just married, and evidently did not 
like porter ; but she submitted without a murmur, though 
she could not resist making a wry face at the cheajp bever- 
age her husband had so considerately prescribed for her 
health. This continued till the last day of the voyage, when 
wine is furnished by the captain gratuitously to the passen- 
gers. Immediately after taking his seat on that occasion, 
our official gentleman drew one of the bottles to his side, 
from which he refused to permit the waiters to help other 
persons. He found no difficulty in disposing of the wine 
which he had so unceremoniously appropriated, and soon 
ordered another bottle to be brought. The peculiar whole- 
someness of porter was forgotten, and his submissive little 
wife was allowed to take as much champagne as she pleased. 
He suddenly remembered that he had friends on board, 
with all of whom he successively took wine, in the generous 
exhilaration of his feelings. And, finally, reaching over for 



224 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the third bottle, he ordered the waiter to carry it with his 
compliments to the surgeon of the ship, as he desired to take 
wine with him. I wonder if he remembered, whilst he was 
nodding with condescending familiarity, that it was the 
captain^s wine he was being so liberal with. But the 
doubt implies a suspicion of his prudence, which I acknow- 
ledge to be unjust. Of course, he recollected the fact, for 
he would never have been guilty of the folly of sharing with 
others what was his own. I was delighted with the whole 
proceeding. I felt happy to make the discovery that even 
an Englishman was profuse in his generosity when he could 
be so at the expense of other people. 

When on deck it is the unceasing struggle of the genuine 
English tourist to ape the ways of an " old salt," and he 
seems to think that having a stomach like a cassowary that 
nothing can turn is something to boast of. He is always by 
very far the busiest man on board. He interrupts the 
officers in discharge of their duties by his impertinent sug- 
gestions ; he goes " aft " to inspect the compass, ^^forerd''^ to 
superintend the steerage passengers, and beloio to torment 
the engineer. In rough weather he always wears a " sou'- 
wester " and an oil-cloth coat. He eyes the sails askance, 
sagely discourses of " royals " " top-gallant " and " main sels" 
and speculates profoundly upon a probable change of wind. 
He is intensely ambitious of appearing learned about trifles. 
He can always tell you the tonnage of the ship, her length, 
her cost, and quickest voyage. He keeps himself posted up 
as to the log, invariably knows the number of revolutions 
the wheels are making to the minute, and is certain to be 
earliest informed of '• the last twenty-four hours' run." He 
is foremost in all marine auctions and lotteries, and intensely 
delights in instructing new-beginners in the occult science of 
" shuffleboard." He is charmed to play the oracle ; and 
talks most glibly for the edification of a crowd. He is never 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 225 

SO contented as when recounting to a squad of greenhorns 
the adventures of former voyages, the whales he has seen, 
and the icebergs he has encountered. If any thing a little 
out of the ordinary routine of the ship happens to occur, he 
immediately pronounces it nothing to what happened to him, 
during a certain voyage, on a certain ship, with a certain 
captain, and forthwith proceeds to spin interminable yarns 
without point, of his past personal experience. If not other- 
wise employed he will hang about the quarter-deck, in order 
to enjoy the satisfaction of impudently replying to questions 
asked by passengers of the captain with regard to his ship, 
and her management. He seems as destitute of delicacy as 
of modesty, and does not hesitate to answer for anybody, 
though the gentleman addressed was present, and might 
very naturally be supposed to prefer talking for himself 
He will intrude himself into any conversation where an op- 
portunity occurs of showing what he thinks he knows, and 
seems altogether to forget that he may occasionally display 
his ignorance, as well as his rudeness, by such gratuitous 
favors. If remonstrated with upon such conduct, he will 
reply, " Oh, everyhody knows me ; why, my dear friend, this is 
my twentieth voyage ! " Being an Englishman, and such a 
traveller, gives him of course the privilege in his own opinion 
of sticking his nose into every company without incurring 
the danger of having it pulled, as it often deserves to be. 
He indulges himself in the liberty of treating everybody as 
an acquaintance, since he considers himself not at all bound 
to acknowledge on shore the acquaintances made on board of 
the ship. In throwing aside his checked travelling coat 
and cap, he conveniently disremembers all the passengers, 
whom he has treated with such patronizing familiarity, 
unless there happens to be among them somebody of dis- 
tinction whose casual acquaintance he is certain afterwards 
to take advantage of if he can. It is amusing during th(^ 
10* 



226 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

first few days after leaving port, before he has succeeded in 
discovering the residence and occupation of every one on 
board, to watch the effect produced on him when the captain 
happens to take wine with a passenger. He immediately 
puts down the fortunate individual as worthy of being in- 
quired after, and should he prove to be of the preconceived 
degree of importance, the Englishman unhesitatingly com- 
mences a system of toadyism despicable to behold. But in- 
solence and servility are usually united. One is rarely dis- 
covered in a superlative state of perfection without the other. 
He is never slow in arriving at his conclusions, for, notwith- 
standing his violent condemnation of " Yankee curiosity," 
he possesses a peculiar facility for picking up personal de- 
tails, altogether surpassing any thing presented among other 
nations. He contrives in this style of his own invention to 
be correctly informed as to name, birth-place and occupation 
of every man, woman and child on the steamer, without once 
resorting to the exploded fashion of direct interrogation. 
He delights in being appealed to for the decision of bets and 
disputes ; and generously gives the advantage of his opinion 
to any one who is willing to receive it. He seems to con- 
sider nothing troublesome that affords him an apology for 
hearing himself talk. Indeed an Englishman appears to 
have two characters when on ship-board and on shore. 
Silent as he always is in the latter situation, in the former 
he is decidedly garrulous, though not the less stupid. "When 
he can find nothing else to meddle in, he interferes with 
the prescriptions of the ship's surgeon, by recommending 
some infallible nostrum of his own which he has known in 
over a hundred cases to relieve sea-sickness ; and insists on 
cramming the stomachs of nauseated passengers as full of 
his quack doses as his own pockets. He never misses a 
chance of throwing all the passengers into an unnecessary 
commotion by intently gazing for half an hour through the 



ENGLISH MANNERS. 227 

spy-glass on vacancy. Of course such a proceeding on the 
part of an old salt, is sufficient to make every man advance in 
turn seriously to ogle the clouds through the glass ; for, 
though the " old salt " assures each one with chuckling satis- 
faction, that he has seen nothing, absolutely nothing, yet 
every one remains firmly convinced that there must be •' some- 
thing ahead." He finds too an inexhaustible fund of amuse- 
ment in pointing his prophetic finger to imaginary " sails," 
which passengers cannot see because they have neither ac- 
quired their " ocean eyes," nor their " sea legs." 



228 ENGLISH ITEMS. 



CHAPTER YII. 

ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNEE. 

CEREMONY and dining constitute the melancholy recre- 
ations of an Englishman's life. Eating is the only thing 
which he is permitted to do heartily, and as if he enjoyed it. 
He cannot talk, he cannot think, he cannot dress as he pleases, 
there is an inviolable rule for them all. He is never free 
till armed with a knife and fork, indeed he is never complete- 
ly himself without them. Even the order in which he must 
place himself at the table, and the manner of occupying his 
seat, are both prescribed by law. He only escapes restraint 
when he feels the familiar touch of those domestic weapons 
of offence, which may be as properly considered integral 
portions of an Englishman as claws are of a cat. 

I once said that an Englishman's dinner "was not only 
the event of the day, but the primary object of his life." 
With the English eating is not simply the highest enjoyment 
of their existence, but it has become the great national mode 
of commemorating social incidents and public events. From 
birth to death a prolonged set-to at the table marks the 
principal occurrences of an Englishman's life. He is joy- 
ously ushered into the world, and solemnly escorted out of 
it, by a feast. A child is born, a christening follows, and a 
huge lunch Frenchified into ^''dejeuner'''' is the consequence. 
A man gets married, and his father-in-law feels a hungry 
sort of necessity to feed all the friends of the family on the 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 229 

day of the wedding. A man dies, and his relations and 
friends assemble to read his will, and devour a solemn 
dinner at his expense. They write cards of condolence 
to his family and send their empty carriages to attend 
his funeral, but take good care to be at his "wake" in 
person. Englishmen do almost every thing by proxy but 
eat — that is a duty which they religiously perform them- 
selves. The professions of distress they deem it proper to 
make upon these funeral occasions, are as heartless as the 
notes of consolation they write to the famil3^ The outward 
forms of sorrow they consider it decent to observe, are as 
empty as the mourning coaches. 

If a great Lord makes a great speech, all the corpora- 
tions immediately honor him with a great dinner. If a dis- 
tinguished diplomatist negotiates an important treaty^, they 
fete him by feeding him. If a mighty General gains a 
mighty victory, he must at once pass through the ordeal of 
a mighty repast, where more fatigue must be endured than 
in his whole campaign, and more wine must be drunk, and 
indigestible turtle swallowed, than the blood he has 
shed and the lead he has wasted in the battle. If an 
Englishman wishes to be respectful, he gives a dinner ; if he 
desires to be polite, he invites you to dine ; and should he 
wish to be sociable, he insists upon your joining the family 
circle at the important meal of the day. If a stranger 
brings a letter of introduction, a dinner is the result, unless 
the man who gave the letter has the meanness to write pri- 
vately to your host that you are unworthy of such an honor. 
From such premises we can readily determine the value at 
which the friendship and attentions of these people are to be 
estimated, when it is a precept especially enjoined upon them, 
that, if they give a letter of introduction to an improper 
person, 'tis their duty to write at once by mail, warning the 
person to whom it is directed of the fact. We know not 



230 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

whether to feel the greatest contempt for the man's conduct 
when he shows himself so destitute of all manliness of char- 
acter as to be unable to refuse an introductory letter, to an 
improper person, or when he descends to this clandestine 
mode of confessing his own meanness. 

Englishmen not only regard eating as the most inestima- 
ble blessing in life, when they enjoy it themselves, but they 
are always intensely delighted to see it going on. The gov- 
ernment charge an extra shilling at the Zoological Gardens 
on the days that the animals are fed in public, but, as much 
as an Englishman dislikes spending money, the extraordinary 
attraction never fails to draw an immensely increased crowd, 
even with the advanced prices. I mean not to intimate that 
there is any thing objectionable about social conviviality. 
There is something comfortable and agreeable in the simple 
act of taking a glass of wine, which, like the coffee-drinking 
and pipe-smoking among the Turks, produces at once a 
genial feeling of good fellowship ; and I know that if two 
boon-companions get drunk together, they are sworn friends 
for life. It is not my desire to interrupt that " feast of 
reason and flow of soul," which these enthusiastic lovers of 
"belly-cheer " will not agree can occur elsewhere than at the 
dinner-table. I can myself conceive of few things more 
charming than a small, well-assorted party, gathered sociably 
about a round table. But I am opposed to the idolatrous 
tenets of those who can worship at no shrine save that of the 
hungry spirits of their vasty stomachs. The man whose 
soul is confined to the limits of a paunch, however capacious, 
could find little use for a heart, when a gizzard would answer 
all his purposes so much more admirably. 

The frigid ceremony, the weighty forms and solemn de- 
portment at an English dinner-table, must exclude every 
thing like mirth or social chit-chat. They assemble to eat, 
and all conversation of a light or amusing character is re- 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 231 

garded as an unpardonable interruption to the business of 
the meeting. As I said before, an Englishman is never 
wholly himself until armed with the carving-knife. He 
takes to the weapon as naturally as Indians to bows or Span- 
iards to stilettoes. The formal rules of English society do 
not pretend to extend to the dinner-table. There even Eng- 
lishmen are free. Each bold Briton can gorge himself to 
his own private satisfaction, provided he does not interrupt 
his neighbors by irrelevant remarks, but leaves them to the 
enjoyment of the same much esteemed privilege. Silence 
and stuffing are the distinguishing characteristics of a grand 
dinner party. And so apprehensive are they that the very 
few civilities which Englishmen feel it incumbent on them to 
offer to ladies, might too seriously interfere with the swilling 
and cramming proceedings of the day, that the ladies all re- 
tire at a given signal, leaving the men to force nuts and guz- 
zle wine till their stomachs or their legs rebel against the 
unnatural imposition, when they once more repair to the par- 
lor to pick their teeth, and stare in maudlin silence at " the 
women." 

It is fashionable to extol the English as the countrymen 
of Shakspeare and Milton, as if, with their language, they 
must necessarily have inherited the elevation of mind which 
distinguished those worthies. But each sleek modern head 
will be found to be much fuller of pudding than poetry. 
Upon examination, all must confess that the English public 
are decidedly more familiar with the living on the rival lines 
of steamers than the beauties of the old English poets. And 
the comparative excellence of Parisian restaurants and Lon- 
don chop-houses, constitutes a study much more congenial 
to their taste, than musty incidents in the lives of dead 
celebrities. What do the English nation possess in common 
with Shakspeare and Milton but their birthplace and their 
language 1 The first was the heritage of chance, the last 



232 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

they have debased by confining it to the mean uses of gor- 
mandizing triflers and chaffering hucksterers. The Mahom- 
etans for many centuries were in posssesion of the holiest 
places of the East, and as an evidence of how worthy they 
were of the succession, they changed churches into stables, and 
shrines into pedlers' stalls. The fact of the English na- 
tion's speaking the same language as Shakspeare and Mil- 
ton, only makes the absence of every other noble quality the 
more startling. 

If the greatness of men be estimated by their circum- 
ference, and their reputations rated according to their appe- 
tites, then England has a just right to be proud of her pro- 
gress. The wan figures of Shakspeare and Milton might 
well hide themselves deeper in their shrouds, appalled by the 
prodigious masticatory performances of the modern race of 
Britons. For their exploits as trenchermen would astound 
their Saxon ancestors themselves, whose tables habitually 
groaned under the weight of whole roast porkers and inte- 
gral sheep. But he who assigns a higher destiny to man 
than, after huge dinners, to crack nuts and swill wine, must 
acknowledge that the nation have tumbled from the summit 
to the foot of Parnassus. He must confess that they are 
not only destitute of the genius to produce, but the taste to 
appreciate, such works as have rendered the Bard of Avon 
and his blind successor immortal. Nonsensical shows in 
crystal palaces, and the silly plots of Italian operas, have 
usurped the places, in the taste of the people, of the histor- 
ical plays and divine poetry of the great masters of Eng- 
lish verse. 

When it is remembered that the richer portions of the 
English people consider themselves happy in proportion to 
the dainty gratification of their appetites, it seems strange in- 
deed that in the gastronomic science, at least, the nation have 
not excelled. They are not original even in their gluttony. 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 283 

Possessing the utmost capabilities to devour, they are 
destitute of the ingenuity to invent the gross dishes with 
which they cram themselves. They owe to a foreign nation 
the mean privilege of bestial indulgence. No one can doubt 
the eminent qualifications of Englishmen to show the rest 
of the world how to eat ; but France has taught them how 
to cook. But still, if digestion and not genius be the chief- 
est blessing to intellectual man, as the universal practice 
among Englishmen would Beem to indicate, then the modern 
triumphs of mind have not been inferior to those of steam, 
in Great Britain. 

Frenchmen live to dance ; Englishmen to eat. About 
what is a Briton so anxious as his kitchen ? of what is he so 
proud as his cook ? with regard to what is he so solicitous as 
his dinner % Here all his hopes are concentrated, here 'tis 
his highest ambition to excel. His cook is the stage-mana- 
ger, his kitchen the green-room, and dinner-table the stage 
of the theatre on which the drama of his existence is played. 
The gorgeous decorations of his theatre, the assembling 
fashionable audiences, and the successful performance of the 
stupid pantomimes usually porduced there, constitute the ex- 
citing employment of a lifetime. Lively comedies are ban- 
ished, as unbecoming the awful dignity of the place, and 
even the stately periods of the heaviest tragedies are es- 
chewed, as interruptions to " the stage business," which is 
cheifly conducted by means of knives and forks. The pro- 
prietor of the establishment displays an enthusiasm alto- 
gether unknown among the most enthusiastic of his breth- 
ren, the professional players. If he toils to be rich, it is to 
acquire means of .purchasing plate, liveries, wines and deli- 
cacies for his play-house. If he cringes, begs and bribes, in 
his efforts for a title, it is all done to secure noble person- 
ages to grace his front boxes. 

Almost every man, of every nation, cherishes in his 



234 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

dreaming moments of reverie some pet scheme of ambition 
or enjoyment, and no exertion seems too great, no privation 
too terrible for its realization. Mahomet, to coax into 
paths of virtue his vicious followers, presented to their warm 
imaginations the black-eyed houris, the brimming wine-cups 
and shady fountains of paradise. But an Englishman needs 
no keener incentive to exertion than a glimmering glance of 
the happy period when he will be rich enough to do nothing 
but eat. Ambition, pleasure and excitement are all stowed 
away, like apples in a dumpling, in this superlative gratifica- 
tion. The voluptuous paradise of Mahomet appears in- 
complete to English eyes ; there is no dinner-table and no 
provision made for regular meals. Without dinner heaven 
itself seems scarcely worth possessing. An Englishman's 
imagination can revel in no sweeter Elysium than hav- 
ing plenty to eat and an appetite to enjoy it. His an- 
tipathy to chameleons may be attributed to the fact of their 
living on air. His neglect of Shakspeare may be accounted 
for by his never having dedicated an ode to the charms of 
roast beef. 

Englishmen may well feel proud, with the rest of the 
world, that human nature has produced such specimens of 
her handicraft as Shakspeare and Milton. But each bold 
Briton should blush to claim them as countrymen. He 
should shrink from the mortifying example, that he himself 
presents, of the degeneracy of the nation since the days 
when Shakspeare wrote, and Milton sung. Their genius 
was only bounded by the limits of creation ; his mind re- 
volves in the orbit of his plate ; his fancy never soars, but on 
the fumes of some favorite dish. He knows no intenser 
joy than a plum-pudding, and rarely suffers a keener inflic- 
tion than an overdone beef-steak. He is erudite in sauces, 
and deeply versed in pies. His vast amount of kitchen sta- 
tistics is really imposing. Though he is hopelessly ignorant 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 235 

of the general lierature of France, his noddle is tightly 
packed with French cookerj receipts. His thoughts are 
much more absorbed in the mysteries of roast beef and 
boiled mutton than the beauties of the rival measures of 
verse. His ingenuity is much more deeply immersed in the 
composition of a new gravy than the comparative charms of 
Hexameters and Alexandrines. In short, he is just the sort 
of fellow, who, in reading Paradise Lost, would be intensely 
curious to know whether Lucifer was addicted to night sup- 
pers, who would give the first joint of his little finger to find 
out what Adam and Eve had for lunch ; a man to wonder 
that Macbeth should have supped on " horrors," when his 
royal exchequer might have afi"orded him the means of pro- 
curing so much more digestible stuff. " The Housekeeper's 
own Cook," is his text-book, whilst poor Shakspeare remains 
the gilded ornament of neglected shelves. 

Nature only seems beautiful to an Englishman when she 
ministers to the cravings of his belly ; he never courts her 
society but to alleviate the pains of table indulgences. Wav- 
ing woods and lowing herds are only suggestive to his mind 
of blazing fires and roast beef. Babbling brooks and placid 
lakes do but remind him of the inestimable blessing derived 
from the application of steam to the culinary art. Great 
ocean himself has no grandeur in his eyea, except as the 
boundless means of importation of foreign edibles. He 
climbs towering cliffs and wanders beside sparkling water- 
falls in search of an appetite. He makes romantic tours to 
escape from the gout, and frequents picturesque and inacces- 
sible places as the best cure for the dyspepsy. He makes 
runs into Scotland for the sake of oat-meal cakes, and so- 
journs amidst the wild beauties of Switzerland, in order to 
be convenient to goat's milk. He goes to France to replen- 
ish an exhausted purse, and to Italy to repair a broken con- 
stitution. 



236 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

If guts could perform the functions of brains, Grreece's 
seven wise men would cease to be proverbial, for England 
would present to the world twenty-seven millions of sages. 
If the English people did every thing as they eat, we should 
no longer have to turn to Rome for examples of eloquence 
and heroism. 'Tis true they have produced no eminent 
feeders whose gluttony has become a proverb ; they can boast 
no Vitellius and Heliogabalus ; but it would be difficult in- 
deed for a single individual to eat himself into celebrity in 
a country where every ordinary citizen surpasses, without 
effort, the immortal table exploits of the imperial voluptua- 
ries. The English nation seem much more deeply impressed, 
than were the Romans themselves, by the force and elo- 
quence of Menenius Agrippa's fable of the belly and the mem- 
bers, by which he succeeded in coaxing the rebellious ple- 
beians from the Mons Sacer back to deserted Rome. In 
their admiration of the truth and beauty of this famous 
fable they appear to have forgotten the figurative meaning in- 
tended to be conveyed, and to have taken it in its literal sense 
as their motto, sacrificing the members and every thing else 
to the all-devouring belly. Intellect, honor, ambition, plea- 
sure, are all swallowed up in this vast receptacle of plum- 
pudding and roast beef. In their enthusiastic devotion to 
their voracious, idol, they appear to have grown unmindful 
that there are higher duties for man to perform than to eat, 
that there are nobler aims for him to live for than the grati- 
fication of his appetite. To eat, to drink, to look greasy, 
and to grow fat, appears to constitute, in their opinions, the 
career of a worthy British subject. I mean not to insinuate 
that " to be fat " is " to be hated." There is something com- 
fortable about a portly corporation, and genuine mirth it 
seems to me delights to lurk in the folds of a double chin. 
Flesh acquired in the merry circle of friends, the joyous 
result of laughter and good cheer, is always the best evidence 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 237 

of a kind heart and liberal disposition. But corpulence 

without jollity whispers of self^ it is eloquent of the mean- 
ness of secret stuffings and solitary potations. To be gross 
without being good-humored is to be swinish, and conse- 
quently to be shunned. But an Englishman is never so 
silent as when eating. Like other carnivorous animals he 
is always surly over his meals. Morose at all times, he be- 
comes unbearably so at that interesting period of the day, 
when his soul appears to cower among plates and dishes, 
as if with the suspicious dread of being called upon to divide 
that which it clings to, even more fondly than to money, his 
dinner. 

An Englishman is like all well constructed guns, he 
never goes off into any displays of animation until completely 
loaded with the good things of the table and primed with 
good wine. And when upon such auspicious occasions he 
does go off into something like gayety, there is such fearful 
quivering of vast jelly-moulds of flesh, something so super- 
naturally tremendous in his efforts, that like the recoil of an 
overloaded musket he never fails to astound those who 
happen to be near him. Eminently sensual, he is not even 
enthusiastic in his sensualities. He gloats rather than ex- 
ults over those exquisite delights of the table, which, in his 
opinion, are so soul-stiring. Though he gorges his food with 
the silent deliberation of the Anaconda, yet in descanting 
upon the delicacies of the last " capital dinner " at which he 
was present, he makes an approach to animation altogether 
unusual with him on other occasions. He loves to dwell with 
lingering affection upon the roast beef and plum-pudding he 
ate and the porter he swallowed. And in discoursing with 
tender minuteness upon the charms of these delicious vi- 
ands, he displays a touching earnestness which might almost 
be considered eloquence. 

He deems no friend worth having who does not give fine 



238 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

dinners ; and no individual unworthy of being cultivated 
who is known to have a good cook. Every Englishman is a 
systematic " diner-out ; " and as assiduously intrigues for 
invitations to dinner, as ambitious politicians for sinecure 
preferments of state. He delights in entertainments pro- 
digiously expensive, but, like Vitellius, he makes it a rule to 
enjoy them at his own expense as little as possible. Thus 
every private citizen in Great Britain enjoys the honor of 
uniting in his own person the two qualities which have ren- 
dered this Roman Emperor immortal : parsimonious as Yi- 
tellius, he is much more of a glutton. With two such genial 
traits as a basis, 'tis not strange that such a pyramid of 
social peculiarities has been reared as to crush all kindly 
feelings towards the English in every foreign country. When 
it is remembered that of all the vices, avarice is most apt to 
corrupt the heart, and gluttony has the greatest tendency to 
brutalize the mind, it no longer continues surprising that an 
Englishman has become a proverb of meanness from Paris 
to Jerusalem, The hatred and contempt of all classes of 
society as necessarily attend him, in his wanderings, as his 
own shadow. All those whose positions make them subser- 
vient to his ill- humor as cordially hate, as other citizens and 
travellers despise him. His passions for gold and eating 
have so entirely swallowed up every other feeling, that he 
appears really ignorant of the existence of many of those 
pleasing little refinements which even savages instinctively 
practise. His unnecessary harshness to inferiors, and his 
arrogant assumption among his equals have cut him off from 
all sympathy with his kind. Equally repulsive to every 
grade, he stands isolated and alone, a solitary monument of the 
degradation of which human nature is capable. Destitute of 
all consideration for those beneath him, he appears to believe 
that they were created, like other domestic animals, for his 
pleasure and convenience. But in his treatment of them hia 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 239 

cruel nature is restrained by no salutary apprehensions of 
punishment by those numerous humane societies which are 
established in England to prevent cruelty to animals. The 
charities of the nation expend themselves in tender solicitude 
for horses and asses, without experiencing one sympathizing 
throb of kindness for those of their fellow-creatures who 
have had the misfortune to be born poor. But as I have 
before remarked, poverty is the only crime in England which 
admits of no palliation. The delicate nerves and nice sensi- 
bilities of English charity, would be shocked to penetrate 
into those sinks of hungry wretchedness, where starving thou- 
sands are driven by necessity, rather than destitution of moral 
principles, into open warfare with that society, from whose 
selfish system of regulation they have suffered so much, and 
from whose sympathy they can hope so little. The extremely 
proper regard for cleanliness and acute sense of smell in Eng- 
lishmen would entirely prevent their descending into those 
loathsome dens, in which despairing misery is wont to hide 
itself. Contact with rags and filth is vulgar. They reserve 
their kindly offices for the well-washed and newly-combed 
inmates of model prisons, and new-fangled houses of correc- 
tion. These dapper philanthropists shrink with loathing 
from misfortune, when arrayed in the frightful paraphernalia 
of woe. But let a man pick a pocket, or rob an orphan box ; 
let him by the frequent repetition of crime prove himself 
utterly destitute of every moral principle, and he immediately 
becomes an object of especial interest to the benevolent of 
both sexes in England. Men of genius are employed to 
construct commodious and healthy places of confinement for 
these hardened rascals. Rival philanthropists vie with each 
other in suggesting plans of prison discipline which shall 
most conduce to their social improvement. The scoundrel- 
sympathy which distinguishes the ostentatious charity of 
Englishmen, provides humane keepers to minister to their 



240 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

personal comforts, skilful physicians to watcn over their 
health, and pious chaplains to superintend their religious 
culture ; every attention is paid to the cleanliness and airy 
situation of their rooms ; every precaution is taken to se- 
cure for them a healthy diet ; good Samaritans of the gen- 
tler sex are constantly visiting the prison wards to distribute 
tracts and consolation to these irreclaimable villains. All 
this is done for these corrupt scoundrels, whilst gaunt star- 
vation is permitted to stalk unheeded among those of the 
wretched, who have as yet secured no claim upon the charity 
of these benevolent benefactors of thieves, by the commission 
of crime. Does it not seem strange, that some gold and so 
much solicitude should be employed for the benefit of these 
daring renegades from law and religion, whilst the really de- 
serving objects of charity are left to die uncared for and 
alone ? Does it not appear remarkable that all the benevo- 
lent impulses of the British nation should exhaust themselves 
in exertions for these hopelessly vicious outcasts of society, 
who have so unmistakably shown themselves "the stony 
ground " in which the seeds of righteousness could never 
take root ? But they shrink in disgust from really suffering 
innocence, which, if properly cared for, would be found to 
be " the good ground that did yield fruit that sprang up, and 
increased, and brought forth some thirty, and some sixty, 
and some an hundred." The ambitious Pharisees of Eng- 
land have not even the mean apology for their conduct, of a 
fellow-feeling for these malefactors. They do their alms before 
men in order " to be seen of them." The benefactors of 
public criminals get their names into the papers ; their 
bounty is eulogized by " the Timesy The liberal founders 
of model prisons, and the charitable advocates of reformed 
houses of correction, " have glory of men," whilst the modest 
doer of good relieving in secret the wants of the obscure 
pauper must await his recompense in Heaven, where " thy 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 241 

Father that seeth in secret himself shall reward thee open- 

An Englishman entertains a high scorn for every man 
who does not eat hugely, and drink well. He respects indi- 
viduals according to their abdominal, rather than their men- 
tal, capacities. He observes with admiration their corporeal, 
not their phrenological, developments. People who have 
weak digestive organs he regards with that pitying sort of 
contempt with which a youthful literary pretender might be 
supposed to look down upon some half-witted unfortunate. 
And those who are unable to gobble food to the same extent 
as an ostrich, he feels sorry for, as being deprived of man's 
divinest faculty. An enormous stomach, and a plentiful 
supply of gastric juice, he regards as just subjects for con- 
gratulation. Being convinced that to eat is man's highest 
destiny on earth, he assiduously cultivates the powers which 
most conduce to its ample accomplishment. The dilating 
power of the anaconda, and the gizzard of a cassowary, are 
the pet objects of his ambition. He leaves inexperienced 
sages to preach the importance of a mind well stored with 
useful information, and a powerful mind to digest and apply 
it, whilst his only care is a stomach wellstuffed with dain- 
ties ; his only anxiety a generous flow of the digestive fluid. 
True wisdom, in his opinion, indulges in mastication, rather 
than meditation. In his judgment, the seat of all heavenly 
joys is the belly, not the mind. He wonders how men can 
ever be unhappy whilst they can eat and drink. There is no 
disappointment so bitter, no calamity so great, that it can- 
not be comfortably smothered with roast beef and porter. 
He knows no excitement so intense, or joy so thrilling, as a 
smoking plate of ox-tail soup, backed by the usual beef and 
potato accompaniments of an English dinner. And when 
his eyes close, and his skin becomes distended, under the 
sweetly soothing influence of these savory viands, his soul is 
11 



242 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

filled with a " content so absolute" that he has nothing more 
to live for till dinner-time next day. 'Tis true that he 
breakfests, that he lunches, takes tea, and sups, for there is 
music to him in the clatter of knives and forks that cannot 
be heard too often to be amusing ; but the " tocsin of his 
soul is the dinner-bell ;" it is his national anthem which 
arouses within him all the ferocious heroism of his nature ; 
its stirring notes make him eager for the assault. Its in- 
spiring harmony awakes him from the lethargy, and, armed 
with a knife and fork, " Richard is himself again." The 
daggers of the patriot conspirators were not more fiercely 
wielded against Julius Caesar, than are these natural wea- 
pons of an Englishman, in his eagerness to get the " first 
cut" from "the hot joint." The position as well as the ap- 
petite of people is reckoned according to the order of " cuts" 
in which they come, and he who obtains the " first " enjoys 
the honor that Englishmen most dearly prize. The second- 
ary meals an Englishman takes to while away the dozing 
hours that must elapse before the period of the great event 
of the day arrives ; and, besides, a certain degree of reple^ 
tion is absolutely essential to his comfort. But dinner is 
his grand climacteric ; for dinner he reserves himself, at 
dinner he makes his great display ; to him dinner is the con- 
centration of life's rarest joys ; for dinner he elaborately 
prepares himself; for dinner he purges, bathes, rubs, and 
dresses ; to dinner he looks forward with the intense longing 
of the weary sentinel awaiting the corporal's guard that is 
to relieve him ; of dinner he makes his existence a dream ; 
he talks, he cares about nothing but his dinner ; his only 
regret seems to be that he is so constituted that he cannot 
pass his life at the dinner-table. The only annoyance which 
ever seriously disturbs his digestion is, that the process of 
stuffing is not as harmless to him as to a Bologna sausage. 
But alas for the happiness of British nature ! not even the 



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER. 243 

innocent amusement of eating is to be indulged to excess 
without retributive pains. Misery and mineral water are 
as certainly the results of gluttony, as of the more active 
vices. The devotion of the English to eating is an ex- 
crescence upon their national character, which, like the 
carbuncles on Bardolph's nose, makes it hideous and glar- 
ing. Its presence disfigures their more serious literature, 
and it unpleasantly protrudes itself from their romance. 
Their modern poets condescend to describe sumptuous re- 
pasts with the technical minuteness of a pastry-cook ; and 
their best novelists are vain of their knowledge in the culi- 
nary art. Their fairy tales are always crowded with ogres, 
who eat hugely and drink well. And the romance of 
chivalry is outraged by having greasy thoughts of dinner 
lugged in on King Arthur's round table. 

Nothing is too heroic or too refined ^o be associated in 
their minds with eating. An English lover is never so sen- 
timental as when discussing in solitude the '' first cut " of 
a " hot joint." He plies his lady-love with doughnuts in- 
stead of flowers, and believes there is no bridal present like 
something good to eat ; he brings her a cornucopia of choco- 
late drops as much more provocative of sentiment than a copy 
of Lalla Rookh ; he has no anxiety to discover her taste in 
poetry, but is intensely curious as to what she prefers to eat ; 
congeniality of soul is never sought for in their fondness 
for the same music, but is developed by their devotion to 
the same dish. He never asks if she admires Donizetti's 
compositions, but tenderly inquires if she loves beef-steak 
pies. 

This sordid vice of greediness is rapidly brutalizing na- 
tures not originally spiritual. Every other passion is sink- 
ing, oppressed by flabby folds of fat, into helplessness. All 
the mental energies are crushed beneath the oily mass. Sen- 
sibility is smothered in the feculent steams of roast beef, and 



244 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

delicacy stained by the waste drippings of porter. The 
brain is slowly softening into blubber, and the liver is gra- 
dually encroaching upon the heart. All the nobler impulses 
of man are yielding to those animal propensities, which must 
soon render Englishmen beasts in all save form alone. 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 245 



CHAPTER VIII. 

ENGLISH GENTILITY. 

JT has been declared in England, that as a nation, our 
manners are unformed : indeed that we have none. I 
certainly consider it much more desirable to be without any, 
than to have such as every man who pretends to be a gen- 
tleman should hasten to get rid of. 

Both civilized and barbarous nations have united in 
considering certain pleasing little forms essentially necessary 
to the preservation of society. We have all felt, and are 
familiar with the charm of politeness, and yet few of us 
could describe in what it really consists. I have yielded to 
the influence of this nameless fascination in my intercourse 
with French, Germans, and Italians ; I have observed its 
action among Grreeks, Turks, and the wild Bedouins of the 
desert, but I have sought in vain to discover its existence 
among the English. They seem to glory in disregarding the 
rules which the politer portions of the world have agreed 
upon adopting. But not satisfied with banishing all graces 
of manner, they unceasingly labor to suppress those natural 
instincts which teach the swarthy sons of the desert to be 
courteous, and the North American Indians to be polite. 
They are terrified by the flunky apprehension, that being 
polite might render them liable to the suspicion of imitating 
the French, whereas they are eager to appear peculiarly 
Englisli. In their ignoble ambition to stand alone, they 



246 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

have succeeded in making the name of Englishman synony- 
mous with almost every term of reproach in the language, 
among the mildest of which may be numbered those of glut- 
ton and blackguard. They have become odious in their 
anxiety to be unique ; and I doubt whether a single indivi- 
dual could be found, from Paris to Constantinople, who 
would not indignantly deny the imputation of possessing a 
single social quality in common with an Englishman. The 
nation seem deluded into the belief that their violations of 
decorum are evidences of independence, and really appear to 
hope that brutality can be mistaken for bravery. They are 
not ashamed to acknowledge, that money or fear can induce 
them to do little things, contributing to the enjoyment of 
others, which, though costing them nothing, they would 
never dream of performing from a polite desire to oblige. 
An Englishman can be forced or paid to do any thing ; he | 
may be coaxed to do nothing. Rank or money applied to 
his impenetrable shell of sullen reserve produces the sam^ 
effect as a coal of fire placed on the back of an obstinate tei 
rapin ; the application invariably occasions in both instance! 
a display of awkward animation very unusual in the animals. 
It would be difficult in circumnavigating the globe, to 
discover a nation presenting so much that is peculiar, and so 
little that is attractive, as the English. Outre in dress, re- 
pulsive in manners, and selfish in nature, they have with- 
drawn themselves into an unsympathizing seclusion from the 
rest of the world. Yet each self-conceited Englishman is 
proud of his isolation, and exults in his surliness. He haf 
peopled the social solitude which his selfishness has made, 
with cheering illusions of his own superiority. He knows 
no ties of sympathy, and has no friends ; but each lonely eg- 
tist gloats over the belief, that the universe contains no assoei 
ates worthy of his excellence. He sees that all the work 
shuns him, and he fondly imagines that he has cut the world. 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 24*7 

The English people render themselves ridiculous by as- 
suming airs that but ill accord with a stockish nature. In 
affecting the noble they succeed in being simply arrogant, 
and are morose when they would be considered exclusive ; 
in attempting to appear complaisant, they are always super- 
cilious, and never fail to be rude when trying to seem free 
and easy. Yet they imagine the universe to be deeply im- 
pressed by the graceful sublimity of their deportment. They 
affect an eccentricity of costume, as most becoming the soli- 
tary elevation of their position. Whether in the unusually 
scant habiliments in which they array themselves, they are 
desirous of imitating as nearly as possible, the costumes of 
their ancestors about the time of Caesar's invasion, or whe- 
ther they have simply made the most of their cloth, I know 
not, but certain it is that their prominent peculiarities of 
dress and disposition are in admirable accord. Hat and 
■head tendencies may be pronounced decidedly sharp. Collar 
jja.d general bearing, stiff, awkward, and unbending. Cravat 
ind pretensions, very ample. Vest and regions about the 
leart, exceedingly contracted. Coat ample, but short ; indi- 
cative of their lavish expenditure upon their own persons, 
but the extremely limited distance their liberality ever ex- 
tends beyond. Pants very full about the seat and waist, to 
match their great natural advantages for prolonged sittings, 
and vast accommodations for extra supplies of food ; but the 
pants about the legs very tight, in accordance with the ex- 
treme closeness of his disposition, and natural aversion to 
gwaste, whether in cloth or shillings. His shoes and move- 
ments, to sum the matter up, are always thick, heavy, and 
clumsy. 

An Englishman cannot escape the hallucinations pecu- 
liar to folly in seclusion. People shrink from him in dis- 
'^ust, and his vanity ascribes their conduct to a becoming 
awe for his pre-eminence ; he imagines the silence which arises 



248 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

from contempt to be a deferential respect for his opinion ; 
he mistakes sneers for smiles of approval, and believes in- 
stinctive repugnance to his person to be a reluctance to in- 
trude upon his reserve. Indeed he entertains too exalted 
an opinion of himself, to doubt another's" appreciation of his 
surpassing excellence. He can comfortably ascribe any 
course of conduct to some feeling flattering to himself 

We could forgive the absence of all politeness in an Eng- 
lishman, if there was one single generous quality to redeem 
his incivility. We could not anticipate much gentleness 
from the most affectionate toyings of the hippopotamus, nor 
could we reasonably expect any great display of elegance in 
the manners of an Englishman, however affable he might 
endeavor to make them. We often smilingly submit to the 
most serious annoyances, when we feel convinced that they 
proceed from no evil intention on the part of those who in- 
flict them. Roughness of manner no more indicates an un- 
kind disposition, than servility evinces a polished mind. 
And if an Englishman was the same thing to all people, charity 
might attribute his brutal effrontery to hardy ignorance ; 
or partiality might ascribe his total disregard of every 
precept practised by a gentleman, to bluff independence. 
But he is as sensitive to the influence of a title, as a high- 
strung instrument to the touch of its performer. A close 
observer may always determine the position of a man with 
whom he is conversing, by the tone in which he addresses 
him. In taking him through the gamut of behavior it will 
be discovered that he sounds A natural with the same facility 
as Gr sharp. Insolent and overbearing to his inferiors, rude 
and laconic in his intercourse with those he considers equals, 
but softly cringing to persons a^ove him, tortured catgut 
itself, scraped by a skilful hand, cannot give utterance to 
tones more various. The harsh twang of the wired chord, 
the growling discord of the middle string, and the soft whin- 



J 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 249 

ing of the treble, are all uttered by him as if each one was 
his own especial note. No man professes to entertain a 
more punctilious regard for etiquette, in all its .minutest 
ramifications, than an Englishman. His clothes are con- 
structed on angles. His manners are apparently regulated 
by the square rule. For the most elaborate laws upon the 
refinements of society, a stranger may safely consult Eng- 
lish books ; for their grossest violations, he may be referred 
to the English themselves. They attempt to preserve the 
letter, whilst they sacrifice the spirit of their written code of 
gentility. An Englishman's ethics consist in seeming not be- 
ing. His career in society is a laborious attempt to deceive, 
a noisy parade of what he does not possess. His feelings are 
professedly influenced by the dictates of a refinement he can- 
not appreciate. His manners are formed on principles he does 
not understand. His existence is made up of ponderous for- 
malities, full of pretension, and signifying nothing. 

Among the numerous passengers of the steamer return- 
ing home, was an interesting young sprig of nobility — an 
Honorable Mr. Somebody, the eldest son of Lord Some- 
thing, as an Englishman patronizingly informed me one day, 
immediately after he had enjoyed the honor of proffering a 
light for the honorable young gentleman's cigar. He looked, 
and was dressed precisely like ninety-nine out of every hun- 
dred Englishmen one meets in travelling. He was pursy in 
person, and very red in the face ; he had short bushy 
whiskers, and parted his hair behind, brushing it forward 
with the utmost particularity. He wore the universal gray 
check, and sported a very small cap, and very large shoes. 
His near approach to a title made it incumbent on him, I 
presume, to maintain a mysterious reserve to the passengers ; 
but he favored the captain, for hours together, with what 
seemed most eloquent discourse. That delighted function- 
ary would then devote the balance of the day to retailing to 
11* 



250 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

every onti who would listen to him, the various profound 
observations this remarkable young man had been pleased 
to make. Although he indulged in the easy dishabille, or- 
dinarily afiected by cockney tourists, he never omitted to 
make a grand toilette for dinner. He lounged about all 
day in his check suit, but he always appeared just before 
eight bells, in the afternoon, rigged out in black dress-coat, 
white cravat, and white kid gloves, as if he had been invited 
to a dinner-party. He was invariably the earliest at the 
table, and the latest to leave it. And when he did leave it, 
it was a remarkable fact that he always demanded of his 
friend the captain, " if there was not 77iore sea on ;" the ship 
appeared to roll so confoundedly, he found it diflBcult to 
keep his legs without the support of the captain's arm. A 
man who ate and drank, as he habitually did, could hardly 
expect to reserve much room for breath, and he was conse- 
quently nervously anxious about the proper ventilation of 
the ship, as the supply of air he was able to keep on hand 
was necessarily limited. We were off the Banks of New- 
foundland, and it was — as it always is even in summer — 
bitterly cold, and very uncomfortable. The passengers all 
looked blue and were shivering at the table in their over- . 
coats ; but the Honorable young man looked as red, and 
perspired as freely, as if he had been roasting eggs in the 
crater of Vesuvius. He insisted upon having his window 
opened to its utmost extent, regardless of the chilled condi- 
tion of his neighbors. Opposite him sat a lady evidently in 
extremely bad health, who coughed almost incessantly ; and 
so injurious to her was the piercing wind blowing in at the 
window, that her husband ordered a waiter to close it. The 
man of the roseate visage instantly opened it again, and looked 
around with a frowning stare, meant to inquire who had had 
the audacity to give orders in his presence. The husband 
of the sick lady then sent the waiter to him, with a polite 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 251 

request that he would allow the window to be closed, as he 
apprehended his wife might suffer seriously from the effects 
of it. Without ceasing to cram his mouth, he informed 
the waiter, it would perhaps be advisable for him not to 
'•bother" about that window any more. The gentleman 
then rose himself, walked across the saloon to the rubicund 
son of a Lord, and, with the greatest suavity of manner, ex- 
plained to him the critical situation of his wife, and begged 
of him, for her sake, to permit the window to be shut. Then 
the Honorable did look up from his plate, but briefly re- 
plied, with his mouth full, that he could not consent to be 
suffocated though his wife was sick. The lady retired — but 
this worthy representation of English nobility continued to 
stuff and swill till his shirt collar, which seemed a sort of 
thermometer of the degree of spirituous heat to which he 
subjected himself, ominously drooped, warning him of the 
maudlin state to which strong potations had reduced him. 
The English people, who have declared the deference shown 
to females in America to be very vulgar, would probably con- 
sider such conduct spirited, and worthy of applause. But I 
do not doubt that every American will agree with me that it 
was more than contemptible, and richly deserved a kicking. 
His scrupulous regard for his toilette only rendered his 
rudeness more conspicuous. We were prepared to expect 
better things from a man who sported such evidences of a 
cultivated taste. The proof he presented in his dress, of 
his having at least a vague idea of what is becoming in a 
gentleman, deprived him of the single apology for his con- 
duct that innocent ignorance might have afforded him. He 
deemed it due the position of a sou of an English nobleman 
to appear daily at the dinner-table in a dress-coat, white 
cravat and white kid gloves, but he considered it no stain on 
the title of his father for him to refuse so simple a request 
to an invalid lady. His code of manners prescribed, with 



252 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

rigid particularity, the style of dress, but said nothing, ap- 
parently, of what is due the other sex. According to its 
sage refinements, it would be considered an outrage for a 
man, not in full dress, to appear at dinner-table, but he is 
permitted to insult with impunity a sick woman — and his 
conduct is applauded as a proof of manly spirit. A beau- 
tiful code ! A worthy people ! to profess to be the most 
refined nation of this enlightened half of the nineteenth 
century. They are a huge sham ; an elaborately ruffled 
" dickey ;" a bladder of ostentatious emptiness. 

That people, like the English, should regard gloves and 
a dress-coat essential to gentility, does not appear remark- 
able, but it does seem very extraordinary that they should 
believe them its sole elements. They constitute without 
doubt the garb in which it ordinarily clothes itself — but 
surely politeness is the spirit which quickens gentility into 
the charms of life. When the vital spark is wanting, the gay 
habiliments it wears whilst living, only render the ghastly 
corpse the more disgusting. It is like arraying a festering 
inmate of the dead-house for a ball. Fashionable articles 
of dress prepare us for a courtesy whose absence is more 
keenly felt; as the sight of an empty fireplace, on a cold day, 
makes us shiver by reminding us of a fire. 

But his indulgent countrymen might ofier many very 
plausible excuses for the ill-mannerly stubbornness of this 
very honorable gentleman. In the first place — among men 
by whom white kid gloves and a dress-coat are esteemed 
such irresistible evidences of superior breeding, their fortu- 
nate wearer might have been justly indignant that any one 
should presume to address him without having previously 
enjoyed the honor of an introduction. It might have been 
considered proper for the husband of the sick lady to have 
first gone to the captain, and begged to be presented to the 
distinguished young man, before he ventured to ask so im- 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 253 

portant a favor as the closing of a window when the ther- 
mometer was little above the freezing point. 

Besides, immense importance is attached in England to 
the amplitude and stiffness of a neckcloth — incalculable in- 
fluence lurks in its tie. And an Honorable might have 
considered it degrading to the dignity of a white cravat to 
sacrifice his rights as a passenger to the whims of a sick 
woman. He had certainly paid his money, and thereby 
purchased as maintainable a pre-emption on the windows as 
any single individual on board. Then, too, he was a son of 
a Lord. 

No people have, in the organization of their government 
and society, submitted to greater impositions than the 
English. Immeasurable awe of their oppressors makes 
them silent under public oppressions. But selfishness has 
made them such inflexible asserters of the most trivial per- 
sonal privileges, that they are justly regarded as nuisances 
on every steamboat and railroad on which they happen to be 
passengers. After the surrender of all the rights that 
humanity holds dearest — and the loss of every privilege 
that manhood should defend, they render themselves ridicu- 
lous by their watchfulness over those that only old women 
should deem worthy of preservation. With them, the loca- 
tion of an umbrella, or the arrangement of a hat-box, are 
matters of tremendous import. These are the proud prero- 
gatives for which they battle — these are the glorious rights 
they defend. In the protection of these precious advantages, 
every social compromise and genial feeling are forgotten. 
The ferocious determination with which they maintain them, 
puts to flight the spirit of accommodation — and they would 
not, for all the women in Christendom, abate of them one 
tittle, unless some more powerful incentive could be offered, 
than the mere fact of their being of the gentler sex. 

Our aristocratic young cockney might have apprehended. 



254 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

like a veritable flunky, soiling his immaculate kids by doing 
a favor for an unknown individual who did not sport the 
same indispensable badges of gentility. For there can be 
no doubt that the true reason of his rudeness was, that he 
dreaded the possibility of compromising his own position, 
and that of his noble family at home, by obliging an ordi- 
nary sort of person. What means had he of ascertaining 
her rank in society? 'Tis true, her manners and appearance 
were those of a lady — but appearances are deceitful — and 
she might have been some mechanic's wife, which would have 
caused his friends in England to quiz him a little about 
having been "sold." Besides, what possible claim could she 
have on him ? He did not know her, and could therefore 
derive no benefit from inconveniencing himself on her account. 
Had she been reputed rich, or noble, no one who has ever 
been in England, could doubt his alacrity to oblige her. The 
remote prospect of future possible advantage would have 
justified, in his eyes, any ordinary sacrifice. But could he 
have claimed the honor of a bow from a lady, who was known 
to be rich, or noble, he would have smilingly endured pro- 
longed sufi"ocation, rather than have seen her lapdog shiver. 
Hot, but eager, he would have vowed in an agony of short 
gasps, what infinite honor he considered it, to be able to 
manifest his deep respect for her ladyship's slightest wish. 
And after the infliction had passed, he would have embraced 
the earliest opportunity afforded by the recovery of his 
wind, to express to her ladyship the hope, that her ladyship's 
charming little pet had suffered no inconvenience during the 
gusty weather of the previous afternoon. To us, among 
whom a lady always receives the deference due the sex, 
whether she happens to be a stranger, or an acquaintance — 
rich or poor — such reflections must seem somewhat extra- 
ordinary — but they are, nevertheless, eminently English. 
Prudent as he is by nature — economical and penurious 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 255 

in all his habits, as education has made him, there is no 
outlay an Englishman makes more reluctantly, than that of 
politeness. He often invests it, 'tis true, but always cautious- 
ly and with hopes of usurious interest. Gratuitous displays, 
like his other charities, are but rarely indulged in. He may 
perhaps be somewhat excusable upon the principle that 
where little has been given, not much ought to be required. 
He has certainly not been endued with so large a supply of 
the article as to be at all lavish in its expenditure. Being 
conscious, I suppose, of his deficiency, he reserves his polite- 
ness, as he does his best wines, which are only to be served 
when he is honored by the presence of his betters. He 
deems it a reprehensible degree of wastefulness to display 
either, except on extraordinary occasions. His civility is, 
consequently, like the Sunday-clothes of a man, who only 
indulges once a week in the luxury of a clean shirt — and sits 
ill upon him. His smile of welcome fades into servility, 
and his attempts at good-humored cordiality dwindle into 
obsequiousness. 

In venturing among the various tribes of semi-barbarians, 
that they appear to think inhabit the different States of 
America, Englishmen find it convenient to leave behind 
them the unwieldy mass of formalities, by which they have 
been all their lives oppressed — and generally come among 
us in the undisguised nakedness of their vulgarity. Wholly 
freed from the restraints imposed upon them at home by the 
different grades in society, they indolently luxuriate in the 
inherent brutality of their nature. They constantly violate 
not only all rules of decorum, but the laws of decency itself, 
with the apparent belief that we know no better than to 
submit to it. They abuse our hospitality — insult our pecu- 
liar institutions — set at defiance all the refinements of life, 
and return home lamenting the social anarchy of America, 
and retailing their own indecent conduct as the ordinary 



256 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

customs of the country. They will invite themselves into 
private houses — go to an elegant ball in soiled overcoats — 
take liberties with perfect strangers by a minute catechism, 
that they would not dare to venture on in England — and 
then abuse us as aspiring savages, utterly ignorant of the 
most ordinary usages of society. But the cool assurance with 
which they attempt to patronize us as inferiors — and the 
intrepidity with which they do the most outrageous things, 
ceases to appear so remarkable, when it is remembered how 
many there are among us who believe, with these upstart 
cockneys, that a titled Englishman could do nothing, and an 
ordinary cit very little, that might be justly objected to as 
low-bred, or indecent. According to such people, if an 
Englishman is insulting in his familiarity, he only means to 
show us republicans that he is not proud of his superiority 
— if he is rude to a lady, he only means to be playful — if 
he is impertinent to a man, 'tis only a way they have in 
England. These anglicized Americans will insist that a 
Briton can do no wrong. He may revile our country, and 
yet be guilty of nothing more than a little innocent badinage. 
He may perpetrate the most startling offences against re- 
finement — and yet he docs it all in his laudable anxiety to 
be sufficiently supercilious and condescending to the obliging 
toadies who surround him. His clumsy attacks upon his 
entertainers pass for wit — his scurrilous abuse of Americans 
is declared to be sarcasm — and an insufferable blackguard is 
ingeniously metamorphosed into an elegant gentleman by 
these degenerate Americans, who only require the livery to 
render them such admirable lackeys, that even their English 
friends might approve their servility. An Englishman, who 
arrives in America, is generally beset by just such despicable 
specimens of freemen, who consider ayiy Englishman greatly 
preferable as a companion to the most accomplished American 
gentlemen. And so long as such unworthy sons of our 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 257 

Republic are permitted to infest unpunished our larger cities, 
so long will our whole nation be confounded with these strag- 
gling renegades. When these Britons are surrounded by- 
such fellows, eager to submit to every indignity, and receive 
any insult to enjoy the advantage of their society, they would 
surprise one if they did not presume upon the supposed ob- 
sequiousness of the nation. These American flunkies are 
thus instrumental in involving their entire country in their 
own degradation. They ought to be mounted upon the 
pillar of infamy, like the bankrupt merchants of Venice in 
old times, 

" for the hand of scorn 

To point his slow unmoving finger at." 

It should be the duty of every good citizen to revile them. 
They ought to be denounced in every newspaper, and hooted 
by every crowd, till they were convinced that the simple 
dignity of an American citizen was somewhat preferable to 
playing the snubbed serving-man to any Lord in England. 

During mj first voyage across the Atlantic we had on 
board the old Caledonia two rich London merchants and 
West India sugar-planters, who had been out to the West 
Indies to endeavor if possible to relieve their estates from 
the ruinous effects of the general emancipation of slaves. 
The elder gentleman kept a journal filled with absurd com- 
plaints of America, but containing much valuable statistical 
information respecting omnibus fares up and down Broad- 
way — the comparative expense of boot-blacking in the differ- 
ent cities in the Union ; and the price of every ride and every 
meal the gentlemen had taken during their sojourn in Ame- 
rica. After having advanced every possible objection to the 
country and the people, he went on to state that " Niagara 
was no great things after all ; that he had seen infinitely 
finer waterfalls in Scotland or Wales — that the Americans 



258 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

made ' a great blow ' about Niagara, but that be had dis- 
covered more water in a little book that he had paid six- 
pence for, than he had been able to find at their boasted 
' falls.'" We might place a just estimate upon this grum- 
bling tourist's opinions of America and Americans, from 
this objection of his to the greatest wonder of the Western 
Hemisphere. Had he found fault with the grandeur of the 
Falls — the picturesqueness of the scenery ; had their height 
or shape not suited him, there would have been some plausi- 
bility in his objection ; but to complain of the quantity of 
water tumbling into the river below, exposed at once the 
absurdity of the man, coming to our country resolved to dis- 
approve of all he saw. So successful however had this 
gentleman been in the management of his diary, and so 
eager was he to read it in detail to every passenger on board, 
that he was, soon after our sailing from port, dubbed M?: 
Pijys. His friend, who affectionately followed him about, 
listened to him as an oracle, and kindly offered himself as a 
butt for his witty sayings, was familiarly known as " My 
Child." One day, when they were in a greater gale of mer- 
riment than ordinary at the dinner-table, " Mr. Pips " chal- 
lenged " the Child " to mortal combat, in a chicken fight. 
The challenge was instantly accepted, the fight to come off 
immediately after dinner. I was exceedingly curious to 
find out the manner of proceeding in this " chicken fight ;" 
and great was my astonishment when I discovered that 
each gentleman sat himself down on the deck, and clasped 
his hands over his knees, that were drawn up as much under 
his chin as possible. His wrists were in this position se- 
curely tied together, and a strong stick run through the 
elbows, and under the knees, completing a process known 
among boys at school as '-'bucking." When this somewhat 
extraordinary arrangement was completed of each gentle- 
man, he was left entirely without the power of motion ex- 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 259 

cept a sliglit spasmodic movement about the head and toes. 
The sport was, when the two were placed face to face, for 
each one to endeavor to insert his toes under the soles of 
the other, and thereby tumble him over on his back, when 
he rolled helplessly till his " bottle-holder " had sufficiently 
recovered from his laughter to pick him up. 

The fearful hum of preparation is heard in the distance. 
Excited men and anxious women crowd the cleared deck. 
Every thing betokens that some deed of dreadful note is to 
be done. All eyes are turned towards that end of the ship 
from which the rival combatants are to issue forth. No 
word is spoken, and the nervous fidgeting of the passengers 
alone denotes the intensity of their suspense. At last the 
little knots of particular friends appeared, and in their midst 
were the two combatants arrayed for battle. Slowly and ma- 
jestically the impatient rivals are bumped noiselessly along 
the deck by their attendant backers. Their eyes gleam daz- 
zlingly upon each other, as they approach. Each one bears his 
head proudly erect, and his dilated nostrils seem to indicate 
that the souls of a thousand heroes are being stirred vio- 
lently within him. When finally prepared for their work, 
each ambitious aspirant to Olympic honors sat silent, solid 
and immovable as the grim statue of Memnon. Indeed, 
however sprightly he might have been in his intentions, a 
very slight distortion about the head and toes was the ut- 
most extent of locomotion, of which he was capable. They 
are now face to face. During one awful moment they 
pause, for a last mighty inhalation of breath and valor, 
when, with the agility of the lightning's flash, they join hos- 
tile toes, as angry bulls lock horns, and at once the promis- 
cuous skrimmage begins. Never was such animation among 
toes witnessed before ; the Highland fling was a minuet 
compared to it. Such scrambling and scrouging — such 
squirming and screwing it was really exhilarating to behold. 



260 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

The unusual exertions of the untrained champions seem 
strangely overcoming to both, as they swell and grow red 
like turkey-cocks. Their fight soon demonstrated the fact, 
that bottom does not always indicate wind ; for however 
amply endowed each gentleman might be with the former, 
in the latter he was not long in showing himself lamentably 
deficient. Brief but violent was the conflict. Each corpu- 
lent champion wheezed like an overcharged locomotive. 
" Science however must prevail." The right foot of " the 
Child," possessing a cunning that the too confident " Pips " 
knew not of, by a dexterous flourish suddenly toppled his 
puffing opponent from his centre of gravity. Exhausted, 
the ponderous Pips tumbled upon the resounding deck. 
Overthrown, not vanquished, he wildly glared upon his tri- 
umphant foe, who essayed to flap his pinioned arms, as he 
loudly crowed in exulting mockery. The peculiar manner 
of doing up was naturally calculated to produce a consider- 
able stretch both of hide and breeches. And when by the 
casualties of battle a champion was, like a cracked dinner- 
pot, turned bottom upwards, with both skin and cloth drawn 
tight as a drum-head, the exposition was immense. No one, 
but those who witnessed it, can conceive of the very ludi- 
crous appearance of a plump middle-aged gentleman, tightly 
trussed up as a Christmas goose, and convulsively wallow- 
ing on his back. He afi"orded an " aspect " as unusual and 
much more startling than that presented by the famous 
frizzled chicken, of fabled memory. 

Rolling in helpless agony — deaf to the jeers of the by- 
standers at the absurdity of his exposed position — the fallen 
combatant is only eager for a renewal of the fray. At last 
his convulsed bottle-holder so far recovered the command of 
his muscles as to lift him first into a sitting position, and 
then bump him along as before, till within reach of his re- 
joicing foe, when they again joined toes, as if life depended 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 261 

on the result. Once more commences the shuffling and 
scuffling, the rearing and pitching — each gentleman creating 
as much noise, and kicking up as great a dust, as if he had 
been miraculously metamorphosed into a centipede, with his 
hundred feet, instead of a single pair. Fierce continues the 
doubtful contest. Black and turgid, the big veins start 
from their glowing fronts. Their knotted muscles writhe 
and twist in the desperation of the fearful struggle. Their 
sinews crack, and nerves quiver in that tremendous strain. 
Renewed wriggling and twisting — sliding and slipping, an- 
nounce the intensity of their final efforts — when the swollen 
cheeks and protruding eyes, accompanied by the shortening 
gasps of the Child seemed ominous of his approaching fall. 
By a sudden sleight, the toes of Pips are surreptitiously in- 
serted under the weary soles of the Child^ whose heels un- 
expectedly salute the setting sun. Heavily he rolls from 
side to side, like a high-pooped Dutch brig in a storm ; af- 
fording during his prostration, to the curious among the 
spectators, an admirable opportunity for studying prominen- 
ces, which are certainly not laid down on phrenological 
charts. 

The laughter again subsiding, the Child is put into a 
fighting position, and at it they go, as if this was but the be- 
ginning of their conflict. The assault renewed, encouraging 
acclamations incite the flagging foes. The noisy bustle once 
more shakes the trembling deck, as whirling, twirling, rum- 
bling, tumbling, they writhe in the agony of their struggles. 
Hot and furious raged the combat. The laughing cheers of 
the excited spectators, ringing merrily forth, threw the labor- 
ing combatants into spasms of exertions, still more terrible. 
Their suppressed breathing and clenched teeth told of the 
earnestness of their endeavors. As regardless of '• all 
around, above, beneath," as two infuriated ants locked in 
deadly conflict — they heave, they slide, they roll, in the fight, 



262 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

frightening women, and overturning campstools, in the vio- 
lence of the onset. By heaven it was a noble sight to see ! 
The heroic strife of these valiant Englishmen, contending 
for the smiles of approving beauty, was worthy of the chival- 
ric days of Britain. I feel abashed whilst making this feeble 
record of their exploits. They deserve some modern Ho- 
mer to sing their prowess, and embalm in Epic verse their 
fame. The story of their deeds should become a part of 
history ; their names should be the battle cry of the Erring 
knights of every cockpit in Christendom ; and the details of 
this dread combat, between doughty Pips and his illustrious 
Child^ should be as familiar to " heeler " and " pitters " as 
the cant phrases of the mug. Frantic were still the efforts of 
both. But the invidious Grod of battles semed still to favor 
the boastful Pips. The Child seemed stricken by some sud- 
den fear, a panic crept through every limb, his muscles be- 
came relaxed; his nerves shook, his eyes rolled fearfully, 
and he would have fled had flight been possible. Escape 
was hopeless. He struggled yet awhile feebly on, when 
again he rolled at the feet of the redoubtable Pips. A hun- 
dred straining throats hail the victorious hero, whose visage, 
resplendent with smiles and exertion, beamed forth his 
thanks. 

Both gentlemen had arrived at that respectable period 
of life, when certain corporeal developments become rather 
prominent. And now " the Child," with his bluntest ex- 
tremity turned towards blushing heaven and the ladies, ex- 
hibited a portion of his person, which, however honorable it 
may be deemed, is usually considered most presentable, when 
veiled by the mysterious folds of a coat-tail. But it may be 
altogether proper, or even fashionable, for aught I know, for 
gentlemen in England to make these somewhat remarkable 
exhibitions to the public. All this may have been English 
gentility, indulging in a little ground and lofty tumbling. 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 263 

merely to show us innocent republicans, that the thing had 
joints, and could sometimes use them — but to a plain man, 
like myself, it seemed much more like what I should now 
designate as the quintessence of cockney vulgarity. Suppose 
that during the tour of Mr. Dickens or some other scribbling 
Englishman, a couple of our western pioneers had been sud- 
denly seized with the immodest desire of exhibiting, in this 
extraordinary way, their fair proportions, in the ladies' 
cabin of one of our Southern steamboats. We should never 
have heard the last of it. It would have been heralded from 
one end of Europe to the other, as irresistible evidence of 
the vulgarity of the American character, and obscenity of 
American taste. Even the heinous crimes of spitting and 
bolting would have paled into petty vices, beside this fearful 
outrage of decency. We should have had lengthy disserta- 
tions, in every language in Europe, upon the indecent license 
of American manners. Our men would have been denounced 
as devoid of all modesty, and our^women of all shame. 
English journals would have piously regretted the fearful in- 
fluences of vice and corruption, which have always existed in 
republics ; and English philanthropists would have seriously 
debated the propriety of sending out missionaries to improve 
our morals. We should have been held up to the world as 
a warning example of the avenging curse of heaven, for those 
twin abominations, slavery and democracy. All pious, moral 
and discreet people would have been considerately put upon 
their guard, against us lawless republicans. They would 
have been earnestly warned against all connection, public or 
private, with a people, whose total disregard even of the 
decencies of life make them such dangerous companions for 
the true friends of law and order. Our influence would be 
deprecated, our society shunned, and our principles con- 
demned as inimical to all that good men love, because for- 



264 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

soothj a couple of western hunters had taken it into their 
heads to make an exhibition, which it seems an Englishman 
can make daily without exciting either surprise or comment. 
The English aristocracy have issued their edict, which 
all flunky Americans obey, that the wearers of linsey-wool- 
sey and broadcloth can have nothing in common. Their 
language and actions, though they may happen to be identi- 
cally the same, are placed in widely different categories. 
The pranks, which in a backwoods American would be stig- 
matized as shocking obscenity, become, when perpetrated by 
a rich Englishman, charming evidences of sportive humor. 
The English and their echoes still persist in reversing the 
scriptural precept, and always judge most harshly of those, 
v/ho have enj oy ed fewest advantages. A-backwoodsman might 
do something offensive to refined taste, for which his ignorance 
should be a sufficient apology. But these illiberal judges 
would vituperate him, but blandly smile upon the improprieties 
of a man, whose wealth and associations in society ought to 
have taught him better. In a western American " the 
chicken fight " would have been an abomination ; but when 
enacted by a rich West India merchant, and planter, it 
was but a playful acknowledgment to the ladies and gentle- 
men on board the steamer, that the proportions of his person 
had not materially changed, but only become more fully de- 
veloped since his days of tight breeches and round jackets. 
From the American, similarly situated, every woman should 
fly in blushing confusion ; but any lady, who should have 
the delicacy to feel shocked by the graceful exposures of an 
English Gentleman^ would be ridiculed as affecting a false 
modesty, that nobody but Americans are guilty of. I am 
not very familiar with the science of anatomy, and there 
may exist a sufficient difference between the conformation of 
a lean pioneer, and a corpulent Englishman, to justify the 



ENGLISH GENTILITY. 265 

distinction tlaey seem inclined to make in favor of the latter. 
And the English may very probably be right, in supposing 
that there is something much more alarming to ladies in the 
angular projections of a lank western hunter, than in the 
plump proportions of one of their own beef-fed countrymen. 



12 



266 ENGLISH ITEMS. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

OEIGIN OF THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. 

THE high-churchmen, always great sticklers for birth and 
pedigree, are somewhat squeamish as to the origin of the 
Established Church of England. They are loath to attri- 
bute their greatest blessing to their greatest tyrant, and 
would fain discover in the various excesses of the old reli- 
gion, the causes of the Reformation, which were snugly 
stowed away in that bloated budget of atrocities, fat Henry 
himself 

If there be any of that importance about mere origin, 
which English churchmen are eager to attach to it, they 
may be somewhat excusable, perhaps, for their solitary be- 
lief in their own infallibility. The Church of England cer- 
tainly owes its existence to the most exalted source, and has 
never disgraced its lineage. If Henry could return to earth, 
he would have no reason to blush for the degeneracy of his 
offspring. It has always borne about it unmistakable marks 
of its descent, and still continues to practise some of the pe- 
culiar virtues of its founder. The easy indifference, with 
which the earlier primates could turn from the terrible 
scenes of their persecutions to the touching offices of religion, 
bears a startling family resemblance to the indelicate haste 
of the tyrant in marrying Jane Seymour, the day after the 
execution of Anne Bullen, when the latter had so recently 
been the object of his tenderest solicitude. Does not the 



ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 267 

malignity, with which they pursued both Puritans and 
Catholics, seem but the reflection of Smithfield's blazing 
fires, which Henry kindled alike for the followers of Luther, 
and the adherents of the Pope 1 And do not the ostenta- 
tious regard for forms and the hollow ceremonies of the 
modern Church, the fondness of its ministers for display, 
and their eagerness for riches, still recall some of the promi- 
nent attributes of the corpulent Henry ? 

When it is remembered how much this modern Blue 
Beard was given to matrimony and extravagance, it no 
longer continues surprising that he quarrelled with the 
Pope in order to take unto himself a new wife, and that he 
destroyed the monasteries to satisfy his avarice. To gratify 
his old passions, and acquire the means of indulging new, 
was too much in accordance with Henry's disposition to need 
any ghostly advisers in hurrying on the Reformation. Once 
commenced, the work went bravely on. The dispute with 
the Pope, begun to gratify the king's love of Anne Bullen, 
was carried to extremities to gratify His Majesty's love of 
gold. Rich monasteries were pillaged. Their confiscated 
lands were divided among worthless court favorites — their 
treasures squandered in idle court shows. The lazy monks 
were expelled — their well-stocked larders destroyed — their 
saintly images broken — and altars overthrown. Their old 
tenants were loaded with heavier tithes to support a new 
clergy, who hankering more after lawn and lucre than venison, 
substituted in their worship the king for the Virgin Mary, and 
filled up the calendar of abolished saints with a long list of 
their titled patrons. 

It was a gloomy omen for the future purity and tolera- 
tion of the Established Church, that it had sprung from the 
lusts, and been founded in the rapacity of a tyrant. From 
such a beginning, it appears but natural, that bigotry should 
color its doctrines, and persecution mark its course. It 



268 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

seemed necessary to infect it with every species of worldli- 
ness. in order to render it worthy of its royal progenitor, 
who had the sacrilegious audacity to clothe his vices in the 
holy garb of religion, and to make his, conscience the vile 
pretext for a viler action. The divorce from Catherine, 
Henry assures us, was the result of pious alarm ; his having 
so long violated a canon of the Church, founded on the 
Levitical law, was certainly well calculated to produce it. 
But during the eighteen years of his marriage with Queen 
Catherine of Arragon, the king's scruples had comfortably 
remained in the profoundest slumber, and they were only 
awakened with love for Anne Bullen. It is surprising, after 
so long a nap, how amazingly sprightly His Majesty's con- 
science became. Its delicacy and refinement may be justly 
estimated, by the somewhat prolonged period of its tor- 
pidity. 

Had Henry, apart from all religious considerations, been 
actuated by a single noble impulse, — had he simply rebelled 
against the encroaching tyrannies of Rome, or only attempt- 
ed to curb the excesses of her arrogant priesthood, the origin 
of the High Church of England might have still possessed 
something of that nobility, which its zealous adherents would 
fain ascribe to it. But up to the period of his outbreak 
against Rome, no prince in Christendom had appeared more 
steadfast in his devotion to the Pope, than his corpulent 
Majesty. In the mildness of his enthusiasm, he had descend- 
ed from his kingly dignity, laid aside his royal robes, and 
entered the public ring of theological wrangling to contend, 
in behalf of the Pope, with that cunning wrestler, Martin 
Luther himself The rude reformer did not receive him 
with that tender consideration that a royal personage might 
reasonably have expected ; but though he richly deserved the 
rough treatment his temerity exposed him to, his zeal 
merited -all the "mouth honor" conferred on him at the 



ORIGIN OP THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 269 

time. And after having been publicly complimented by the 
special commendation and affection of the Pope, he could 
sport the sonorous title of '• Defender of the Faith," with the 
blushing consciousness of having won it. 

After the eighteen years of uninterrupted connubial 
quiet with Catherine of Arragon, the king's religious scru- 
ples became suddenly alarmed at having so long lived in 
the holy estate of matrimony with a brother's widow. Being 
at last awakened to the enormity of his crime, it was but 
natural that a tender conscience like his should have been 
assailed with all sorts of sulphurous visions of purgatory, and 
that his fragile frame should have been fearfully shaken by 
superstitious horrors of every shape. What mortal could 
calmly endure the intense anguish of such remorse ? He 
flew to Rome for relief. And it was only when Pius VII. 
hesitated by granting him a divorce to set aside the dispen- 
sation of a venerable predecessor for the solemnization of 
the marriage, that Henry's devotion was turned to bitter, 
ness. In the excess of his virtuous indignation he resolved 
to defy the authority of that church, whose canons he had 
such holy horror of breaking, even with the connivance of its 
head. He felt there was a higher power whose sipfple fiat 
should outweigh the indulgences of all St Peter's succes- 
sors together. The Levitical law was more sacred to him 
than the accumulated bulls of a thousand Popes. Alone 
he stood forward the champion of morality and religion, the 
avenger of outraged decency and the advocate of civil rights. 
Such distinguished sincerity, such refined delicacy, it seems 
to me, should entitle their possessor to the highest admira- 
tion of posterity. The churchmen whose fortunes he 
founded should be eternally grateful for the illustrious ex- 
ample of piety he gave, in shrinking from so sinful a con- 
nection ; they should unceasingly thank him for the admira- 
ble evidence of intrepidity he afforded, when he resisted 



270 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

that power, which would have forced him to continue it. 
Since they cannot canonize him, but are allowed to indulge a 
passion for heraldry, they might, at least, quarter his arms 
over the door of every established church in the kingdom. 
The factions might, however, declare that it was a little re- 
markable that Henry was never disturbed by those praise- 
worthy apprehensions of sin till he had grown weary of the 
person of his wife, who was some years older than himself. 
But surely such a coincidence should not stain the purity of 
his conduct. Because he had passed eighteen years of his 
life in evil-doing is no reason why he should not have ex- 
perienced the greatest eagerness to atone for past faults. 
He never pined for a divorce till he had wholly yielded him- 
self up to his unruly passion for Anne Bullen. That should 
not have lessened his anxiety to free himself from a connec- 
tion, revolting alike to his pious feelings as a Christian and 
his moral sentiments as a man. He never questioned the 
divine right of the Pope till he refused to minister to his 
vices. But ought this fact to tarnish the glory he won in 
freeing England from the rule of the spiritual ty^rant ? Such 
a monarch, actuated by motives so pious, so holy, so ex- 
alted, the Church of England may well feel proud of, as its 
founder. 

But there are churchmen so little orthodox in their esti- 
mate of Henry's religious character, that they would will- 
ingly prove the church a foundling, the mysterious results 
of a happy combination of circumstances, instead of allow- 
ing her all the advantages of her distinguished parentage. 
The atrocity of the attempt is only equalled by its folly. 
History fortunately furnishes facts which establish the illus- 
trious pedigree of the church as indisputably as if it had 
been recorded in the Herald's College. These skeptics may 
declare that the public mind had been gradually prepared 
for the great religious revolution, nnd that Henry, for the 



ORIGIN OF THE CHURCn OF ENGLAND. 271 

only time in his life, consulted the wishes of the people in 
breaking his allegiance with the Pope. 

There can be no doubt but that the overgrown power of 
Rome had become extremely irksome in England. Many 
of the nobles were anxious to see the country freed from the 
inordinate riches and encroaching disposition of the clergy. 
Although the rival forms of the two churches were, to them, 
matters of supreme indifference, as the accommodating elas- 
ticity of their consciences during the rapid religious changes 
under Mary, Edward and Elizabeth abundantly proved, yet 
they both feared and hated the arrogant priesthood, whose 
superior opulence overshadowed the magnificence of their 
own order. The immense riches accumulated by the six hun- 
dred and forty-five monasteries, the ninety colleges, the two 
thousand three hundred and seventy-four chantries and free 
chapels, and one hundred and ten hospitals which Henry was 
pleased to plunder, are almost incredible. One of their own 
partisans concluded that they*possessed little less than one- 
fifth of the entire landed property of England, besides their 
enormous revenues arising from other sources. When it is 
remembered that in addition to wealth so unusual, all ton- 
sured persons enjoyed an immunity from civil punishment 
for crimes, it is no longer surprising that they should have 
been regarded with fear and suspicion, even by their own party. 
Possessing, as they did, such extraordinary means of every 
vicious indulgence, without the restraint imposed on other 
members of society by the civil law, it is not improbable 
that their excesses merited the exaggerated reports made 
by Henry's commissions of visitation. But so far was this 
natural desire for an improvement in the morals of her 
priesthood from inciting any alienation from the old church, 
that when Henry first attacked her, by his daring spoliation 
of the smaller convents, a rebellion convulsed the north of 
England, and disturbances occurred in various portions of the 



272 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

kingdom. What better evidence of strong attachment to 
the Catholic Church could be adduced than that the tyrant, 
with all the terror of his name, was unable to quell the in- 
dignation of the people at his ofl&cious tampering with their 
faith? The dissatisfaction was much increased upon the 
destruction of the larger convents in 1540. Even Henry, 
whose fierce nature seemed to delight in warring against 
God and man, became alarmed, and he attempted to enlist 
the most powerful of the nobles on his side, by bribing them 
with the confiscated estates of the monasteries. Does 
such universal disaffection, from so despotic a government, 
evince any eagerness, on the part of a nation, for religious 
changes ? No, no ! It was Henry, not the people, who had 
quarrelled with the Pope. His vices and not their devo- 
tional feelings were to be gratified by the Reformation. If 
Catherine of Arragon had been younger, or Anne Bullen 
less beautiful, England might have become Protestant, in the 
lapse of ages, but she would have escaped the crushing 
weight of the hierarchy. 

When Henry, after his rupture with the Pope, gracefully 
resigned the magnificent title of " Defender of the Faith," 
and assumed the one no less imposing, of " Protector a,nd 
Supreme Head of the Church," he conducted himself as 
step-fathers, on such occasions, are wont to do. He at once 
commenced a rigid inquiry into the morals of his adopted 
charge. The monks were reported to be somewhat loose 
and erratic in their habits. Their tender guardian declared 
them incapable of managing their own affairs, and wishing, 
I presume, to present to the world a startling example of 
his superior justice and piety, coolly robbed them of all 
their possessions, and would himself have pocketed the 
money, if he had dared. Every friend of law and order 
felt outraged, by the king's glaring violation of the sacred 
rights of property. Admitting that the monasteries har- 



ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 273 

bored individuals who were guilty of excesses, and even 
crimes, before what legal tribunal had they been ar- 
raigned ? By what jury had they been condemned ? By 
what right had the king become censor of the morals of his 
subjects? What stretch of the royal prerogative had given 
him this sweeping power of confiscation, to regulate the pri- 
vate lives of the people 1 

The monks, too, with all their jolly vices, had many and 
warm friends in the kingdom. The great mass of the popu- 
lation, who would have hailed with joy a decent reformation 
of their morals, were alarmed into resistance by this terrible 
blow, struck, through the monasteries, at the Church itself. 
Besides, there were many who continued to entertain an af- 
fectionate weakness for the religious houses, in spite of all 
their failings. Those who had dead friends to be prayed 
for, those whose sinful courses made them look forward with 
trembling eagerness to the masses that were to be said for 
their souls, after they had been called to their final reckon- 
ing, — the benighted travellers who missed the cheering hos- 
pitality of the scattered monks, and the beggars who daily 
received alms at the gates of the monasteries, — all assisted 
to swell the wail of timorous indignation at the sacrilege of 
Henry. 

The pious haste with which he devoted the incontinent 
abbots and their followers to destruction, was no doubt in- 
creased by the gratifying prospect of their confiscated trea- 
sures, which were by no means unacceptable to a spend- 
thrift of his expensive tastes and improvident disposition. 
But, with the impious audacity to strike the blow, he lacked 
the moral courage to enjoy the fruits of his wickedness. 
Bewildered by the storm of opposition which assailed him, 
he was compelled to dole out the pilfered estates of the 
church to the nobility, hoping, by making his crime their 
interest, to enlist these ready allies of evil on his side. 
12" 



274 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Thus cowardice defeated the only possible benefit that might 
have arisen to the state, from so flagrant an outrage in its 
head. Had Henry retained these immense treasures, his? 
subjects might have been relieved, at least, from the bur- 
den of '• supporting the dignity of the crown," and '• pro- 
viding for the public defence " — two favorite pretexts, in 
despotic governments, for squandering the money of the 
people. But, what he did not lavish in idle parade, having 
become the victim of his own fears, he distributed to covet- 
ous courtiers, to swell their large fortunes, whilst he re- 
mained as needy and craving as before. His successors, 
backed by these powerful nobles as their friends, and sup- 
ported by the numerous party of reformers who had sprung 
up in the kingdom, possessing all the facilities he had af- 
forded them for completing the work he had himself com- 
menced, were still unable peaceably to establish the High 
Church of England. Rebellion and insurrection followed 
the attempt, and Burnet admits that Edward was forced to 
send over for foreign soldiers, to intimidate the obstinate 
bigotry of the people. 

When Henry, with all his terrible machinery for awing 
discontent into silence, had been unable, without outbreaks, 
to interfere with the religious opinions of the nation, it is 
scarcely to be supposed that Edward, or even the more reso- 
lute Elizabeth, could ever have established the new church, 
had he not prepared the way for them, by wholly changing 
the estate of the upper house of Parliament, when he de- 
stroyed the monasteries. The abbots and priors, to whom 
writs of summons had been previously issued, added to the 
twenty-one Bishops, had always given the Spiritual Lords 
the majority in the House of Peers. These, whether actu- 
ated by attachment to their belief, or by worldly considera- 
tions, would always have firmly resisted every attempt at 
alterations in their form of worship. 



ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 275 

Who can doubt that it was Henry's will, and not the 
general desire of the people, which commenced the Refor- 
mation in England ? Who can pretend that the destruc- 
tion of the monasteries was not the immediate cause of its 
accomplishment ? Had the expelled churchmen been al- 
lowed to retain their places in the House of Lords, the Pro- 
testant successors of Henry could never have obtained that 
powerful influence over the nation which was derived from 
a decree of Parliament. And, though the people murmur- 
ingly submitted to despotic power, when sustained by the 
instinctive obedience to law with which they had been 
reared, they would never have yielded rights so dear as 
their religious belief to tyranny alone. So tremendous a 
revolution could never have been effected in England, but 
for Henry's destruction of the monasteries. 

The tyrant's unholy love for Anne Bullen first induced 
him to set up a church of his own ; his spoliation of the 
monasteries enabled his successors to sustain it. Henry's 
lust produced the Church of England ; his rapacity estab- 
lished it. 



2t6 ENGLISH ITEMS. 



CHAPTER X. 

PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 

BLOODY Mary has never lacked a chronicler of her wicked 
deeds. Her cruelty and bigotry are themes, upon which 
historians of successive ages have dilated with increasing 
eloquence. All persons of rank, who suffered during her 
reign, are thrust into prominent places in history, and even 
obscure mediocrity is lighted into immortality by the flash- 
ing fires of Smithfield. Every state trial is noted with 
eagerness, every fine recorded, and the list of the martyrs 
burnt at the stake is preserved with commendable accuracy..- 
Leaders of rival parties have vied with each other in heaping 
obloquy on her memory. But no politician ever sought 
popularity, or author renown, by dwelling on the persecutions 
which followed under her Protestant successor. 

Yet the implacable fury of Elizabeth was not directed 
against a single sect. The omission of the surplice and the 
use of the crucifix were crimes, in her eyes, equally deserving 
of punishment ; and Puritans and Catholics both became 
the objects of her remorseless bigotry. It seems the anxious 
wish of Englishmen, of every grade, that the lurid glare of 
persecution under Elizabeth should pale before the vaunted 
glories of her reign. In remembering the eloquence of 
Shakspeare, and the learning and wisdom of Bacon, and 
boasting of the intimidation of their Scottish neighbors, and 
the continued subjugation of the Irish, in exulting in the 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 27*7 

deeds of Drake and Hawkins, and the destruction of the 
Spanish armada, men are too prone to forget the religious 
intolerance of their favorite sovereign. 

No record has been kept of the obnoxious sects who 
-perished in prison from privation, nor can we tell how many 
were reduced to beggary, by the infliction of enormous fines 
or the entire confiscation of their estates. But we do know, 
from undoubted authority, that under this wise, chaste and 
most Christian princess, two hundred and four Catholics alone 
lost their lives for opinion's sake, and that the fearful clank 
of the rack was rarely silent during the latter years of her 
reign. 

In obsequious Parliaments, that knew no law but the 
Queen's pleasure, statute succeeded statute, robbing them 
of every right an Englishman holds dear. The strict pro- 
hibition of all public enjoyment of their religion was not 
deemed sufficient. The most clandestine performance of 
their rites was strictly forbidden ; priests were banished 
from the kingdom on pain of death, and those were punished 
who were aware of their presence, without giving immediate 
information. Ingenious tests were contrived, by which the 
persecuted Catholics were excluded from all offices of trust 
and honor. The sacred precincts of their homes were in- 
vaded by spies and informers, armed with a revolting oath, 
the refusal of which hurried the inoffensive victims to prison, 
or subjected them to ruinous fines and confiscations. The 
terrible tribunals of the Star Chamber and High Commission 
Court deprived them of those only guarantees of personal 
freedom — the habeas corpus act and trial by jury. But even 
when allowed, by an ostentatious parade of clemency, the 
benefit of the ordinary course of law, what hope had they of 
receiving justice in a community in which men regarded a 
Papist as a dangerous criminal ? Elizabeth, however, when 
she occasionally made these specious exhibitions of pretended 



2*78 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

justice, fearing that the conscientious scruples of her sub- 
jects might, by chance, prove stronger than their prejudices, 
resorted to means, unheard of at the present day, to secure 
verdicts in accordance with her own relentless disposition. 
Sheriffs had general orders to select such jurors as they be- 
lieved favorable to the Queen's views ; but when this expe- 
dient occasionally failed, whole juries have been fined and 
imprisoned for daring to return verdicts in known opposition 
to her wishes. Such were the machinations against the op- 
pressed Catholics, and such the remorseless bigotry of the 
Queen, that even this semblance of doing them justice, ac- 
cording to the Common Law of England, became a "heartless 
mockery. 

The Archbishops, under Elizabeth, enabled by the bound- 
less authority of the Court of High Commission rigidly to 
enforce the Acts of Supremacy, of Uniformity, and others, 
enacted by debased Parliaments for the entire extirpation 
of Popery, readily won for themselves a notoriety worthy of 
the Inquisition in its blackest days. The eagerness they 
displayed in their too ready obedience to these nefarious 
enactments, by pursuing unoffending Catholics, might, in the 
eyes of bigoted high-churchmen, justly entitle them to be 
considered ornaments of the new religion, which, avowedly, 
had been purged of all the superstition and intolerance of 
the old. But could this intemperate zeal, whose end was 
blood, obtain the approbation of our Grod, who commands to 
forgive our enemies, and to pray for those who despitefully 
use us ? And yet such holy hypocrites as Parker and 
Whitgift, who professed, in opposition to the Pope, to take 
the Bible as their guide, could employ such degraded emis- 
saries as Topcliffe to dog the footsteps of their pretended 
enemies, to pervert their confidential discourses into treason- 
able threats, and to search the most private places of their 
homes for hidden evidences of Popery : when all Catholic 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 279 

ceremonies in public had been suppressed ; wlien priests 
were prohibited to enter the kingdom on pain of death ; 
when Catholics were compelled to attend Protestant 
churches, and assist in the performance of rites as repugnant 
to their consciences as Christians, as their independence as 
men. Yet these modern Pharisees, arrayed in lawn and 
hypocrisy, with prayer on their lips and murder in their 
hearts, would dare to kneel before the altar and implore 
Grod to deliver them " from envy, hatred, and malice, and all 
un charitableness." Did Grod or mammon, respect for Holy 
Writ or lust of power, urge them on in these unhallowed 
courses 7 When the religion that they, at the same time, 
professed and disgraced, breathes peace on earth and good will 
to men, what Christian could regard such bitter intolerance 
as an evidence of sincerity 7 What portion of the Scriptures, 
that they professed to obey, had taught them to drink in, as 
music, the cries of their victims stretched on the rack? 
What feeling of humanity could prompt them to watch, with 
delight, their quivering limbs whilst being drawn and quar- 
tered by the hangman? Their unnecessary zeal in obeying 
those cruel edicts, was revolting alike to the charity of 
Christians and humanity of men ! 

Sophists, in attempting to extenuate the conduct of the 
Archbishops, might advance three plausible apologies for 
their insane bigotry. They might pretend that, actuated by 
profound principles of state policy, Whitgift had sacrificed 
to a sense of duty, his charity as a Christian. They might 
declare that according to the more than doubtful morality of 
" expediency," both he and Parker were justifiable in their 
persecutions, in order to retain their positions and influence 
at court, by yielding to the prejudices of the Queen. Or, 
lastly, they might tell us that they were influenced by the 
uncontrolla.ble hatred, incident to the jealousy between rival 
churches. But I feel confident that I can show that each 



280 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

of these positions is untenable. I think I can prove that 
the persecutions, under these distinguished primates, sprung 
from, and were nurtured by, the malevolent intolerance that 
has always characterized the Established Church of England. 

State policy has always been made, in despotic govern- 
ments, the cloak for countless severities and many crimes. 
Ministers may be vile, the king tyrannical, and the church 
corrupt ; yet historians, professing to preserve the records of 
truth, have always been found blandly to attribute their atro- 
cities to the imperious necessity of "State policy." But 
this flattering vindication cannot be applied to the conduct 
of the Archbishops. They stood alone among the advisers 
of the crown in their unrelenting hostility to dissenters of 
every denomination ; they surpassed the Queen herself in 
their rancor. Sympathy with public grievances and indi- 
vidual suffering, is not ordinarily of the keenest nature in 
the hearts of ambitious statesmen. They often correct 
abuses and submit to reforms, 'tis true, but they are rather 
driven by the force of public opinion, than actuated by com- 
passion for the wrongs of the oppressed people. Yet those 
in the cabinet of Elizabeth, who were the bitterest enemies 
of the Catholics, shrunk back appalled by the bloody zeal of 
Whitgift and Parker, though a majority of the nation ap- 
proved the exterminating edicts against popery. Lord Bur- 
leigh, and Sir Christopher Hatton, indignant at the unneces- 
sary cruelty with which Catholics were pursued, boldly 
remonstrated with the Queen against the unseemly excess of 
her Archbishops. But their revengeful bigotry was toO 
much in accordance with Elizabeth's own gloomy temper, to 
allow her to listen to the counsels of her more reasonable 
advisers. 

Admitting that the interests of church and state were 
so intimately allied, as to make it necessary to restrain the 
open exercise of the Romish rites, how can their admirers 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 281 

palliate the conduct of the Archbishops, after the most pri- 
vate indulgence of these forbidden ceremonies had been sup- 
pressed, and the persecuted Papists compelled to attend the 
Protestant churches ? Their terrified imaginations, haunted 
by the consciousness of cruelty, might on the slightest pro- 
vocation have conjured up plots to overturn the state, and 
conspiracies to murder the Queen. But there were no 
grounds of fear, except of those air-drawn daggers that al- 
ways shake the souls of tyrants. The Roman Catholics, 
though deprived of every civil and religious right, had never 
manifested a disposition to rebel against the government. 
Helpless in their sufferings, unarmed and unmurmuring, it 
seems to me that the Christian meekness of their resignation 
should have excited something like forbearance in the souls 
of their oppressors. But submission in their victims seem- 
ed but more fiercely to excite the ire of these insatiable 
churchmen. Even when all causes of animosity had been 
removed, and every object of persecution suppressed — when 
their foes had nothing more left of which they could rob 
them, and not even a murmur against their cruelty could be 
heard to excite their indignation, they played the part of 
the wolf in the fable towards the lamb : they accused the 
downtrodden Catholics of stirring the fierce stream of per- 
secution that poured from the Protestant church, and still 
farther punished them for evils that they themselves had in- 
flicted on the land. 

So far were the Catholics from resisting the government, 
that the united efforts of the Parliament, the Queen, and 
her pet churchmen, were unable to drive them into rebel- 
lion, though their barbarities seemed perpetrated with that 
intention. They remained unshaken in their allegiance, 
though the whole Catholic world stood ready to avenge their 
wrongs. The Pope thundered forth his bulls. France and 
Spain sent emissaries and distributed money, with the vain 



282 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

hope of exciting a revolt, that they were most anxious to as- 
sist. These two nations then wished to aid them, in spite 
of themselves ; and only demanded, in case of an invasion, 
their passive neutrality. But these despised Papists, de- 
prived of every privilege that made the name of English- 
man tolerable, so loved England and her Queen, that they 
were unwilling to receive their rights from strangers, when 
the price demanded for them was the Constitution of their 
country. 

When a powerful armament of the then mightiest king- 
dom of the universe, threatened the entire subjugation of 
Grreat Britain ; when the Spanish Armada, freighted with 
the picked men of Castilian chivalry, was hovering near the 
coast, and every English heart, from the Queen to the 
humblest peasant, quaked with terror — the persecuted Pa- 
pists, instead of quietly awaiting the deliverance promised 
them by these Spanish invaders, rushed to their standards, 
and the Catholic gentry were the first to appear in the field, 
with volunteers for the defence of the Queen. All history 
cannot afford another such example of heroic disinterested- 
ness. Poets love to sing the praises of patriotism ; histo- 
rians delight to immortalize its possessors ; but the eulogy 
of a self-sacrificing patriotism like this should not be pro- 
nounced by poets and historians alone. It should not be 
confined to a single nation ; it should be sounded in every 
land — it should find an echo in every heart. Patriotism, 
though so noble, so exalted, is but too often the result of 
the blessings of a government, or the delights of a home. 
But these Catholic gentlemen, in coming to the aid of the 
Queen, were sacrificing position, wealth, religion, and life it- 
self to an ungrateful country. What more glorious evidence 
could be adduced that the spies and the rack, the fires and 
the gallows of their persecutors were not necessary to teach 
them their duties ^s Englishmen ? What better proof could 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 283 

be required, that no considerations of State policy could 
dictate the destruction of men so ready to brave danger, in 
defence of their oppressors ? 

Passive obedience is too often demanded by monarchs 
from ambitious subjects, as the price of royal favor. And 
such is the tenacity with which men cling to power, that 
even honorable minds will frequently sink to the commission 
of mean, and sometimes guilty deeds, in order to retain it. 
Had the Archbishops held their sees, as the Ministers of 
State their places, by the frail tenure of a tyrant's will, self- 
ishness might have afforded them, in the eyes of the worldly, 
a mean excuse for their conduct. But even this miserable 
pretext was denied them. They held their positions for 
life. In assuming the Archbishop's mitre they had been 
emancipated from the authority of the sovereign herself. 
They had no court favor to sacrifice — no places to lose. 
Thenceforth their lives were to be dedicated to Heaven 
alone. As the heads of the Church, their allegiance was 
due to God — not to the Queen. His commands — not her 
whims — they had solemnly sworn to obey. 

During great revolutions, whether in Church or State, 
the opposing parties imbibe a bitterness for each other, 
which, however inconsistent it may be with their professions 
as Christians, is but natural to their feelings as men. Not 
a half a century previous to the epoch in English history at 
which we have arrived, the mighty reformation of the reli- 
gious opinions of the world had taken place. The separa- 
tion of the Reformers from the Catholic Church had been so 
recent, such startling changes had been effected, that the 
deadliest animosity still rankled in the hearts of both. 
They not only experienced the hostility incident to such oc- 
casions, but it became an object of the highest importance 
to the infallibility of each one, to prove the outrages against 
God and man of the other. And if we implicitly believe 



284 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the diflferent partisans, both Catholics and heretics were as 
certainly deserving of the gallows as they were declared to 
be of hell-fire. Every article of faith had been discussed — 
the propriety of every ceremony disputed. Questions of 
temporal authority and State rights, were so industriously 
mixed up in these spiritual wranglings, that each side 
learned to consider it as sacred a duty to hate the other, as 
to go to church. It was no isolated doctrine that was to 
be argued — no single alteration of forms that was demanded. 
The entire religious structure was to be overthrown, and a 
new fabric built up. 

But, unfortunately for the fame of the ghostly advisers 
of Elizabeth, Protestant dissenters shared the aversion they 
had so fearfully manifested towards the Catholics. Puritans 
and Catholics, bitterly as they were opposed to each other 
in religion and politics, suffered in common. Without a sin- 
gle tie of sympathy — farther removed from each other than 
either was from their mutual enemy — they were yet united 
in being martyrs to the same insane malevolence. So large 
a proportion of the ministers, officiating in the Established 
Church at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, being in favor 
of the dissenting doctrines, their opinions should have com- 
manded more consideration than they received. Simple, 
even to austerity, in their notions of religion, they could not 
silently endure those ceremonies of the Established Church 
which had been borrowed from the splendid superstitions of 
Rome. The tippet and the surplice, the sign of the cross, 
and the crucifix, were to them the shameful badges of alle- 
giance to the Pope. They contended that these rites, trans- 
ferred from the old church to the new, were calculated to 
keep alive in the minds of the people the recollection of the 
captivating religion they had abandoned. With them these 
ceremonies were matters of conscience ; their presence 
violated the sacred tenets of their faith. The Queen being 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISUED CHURCH. 285 

far too shrewd in judgment to regard them otherwise than as 
mere forms, wholly unimportant in the great scheme of sal- 
vation, worldly considerations should have restrained her 
from the attempt to force them on her dissenting subjects, 
when they so sincerely believed their primitive form of wor- 
ship to be outraged by such idle exhibitions. The jealous 
care with which she guarded her prerogative, caused this 
most grievous error of her life. It was not that she deemed 
the surplice and the sign of the cross essential to the puri- 
ty of her faith, that she insisted on their adoption ; it was be- 
cause she considered the discontented murmurs of the 
Dissenters disrespectful to herself. By the laws of the land 
she was the " supreme head of the church," and she was un- 
willing to abate her authority even in trifles. 

No one can pretend that the laws which created the 
High Church of England did not confer upon the Queen 
the right to govern her own spiritual servants in her own 
way. And when the ministers of the Presbyterian persua- 
sion broke into open rebellion against her authority, by re- 
fusing to sign the Thirty-nine Articles, I think the Arch- 
bishop did but consult the interests of his Church, when he 
ejected them from their livings. But, after having deprived 
them of all temporal advantages, it seems to me it would 
have been the part alike of the Christian and the statesman, 
to have left them in the secret enjoyment of their humble 
worship, without plunging into those wild excesses of perse- 
cution, which, commencing in 1567 with the dispersion of 
the conventicle in Plummer's Hall and the arrest of its 
principal members, resulte'd in a revolution, fatal to Eng- 
land, as to her Church. 

The fact that the Independents, in their wild fanaticism, 
having manifested, even at that early period, as ferocious an 
animosity to the Queen and her government as to her 
church, might justify the enactment of those laws, executing 



286 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

their ringleaders, and compelling thousands of the sect to 
fly the kingdom. But the Puritan ministers, not originally 
denying the lawfulness of the High Church government, and 
only demanding certain reforms in her discipline, might 
have been easily reconciled by the abolition of the obnox- 
ious ceremonies, — by restraining the plurality of benefices, 
and correcting certain other abuses, that had already crept 
into the Church. 'Tis true, that as early as 1570, Thomas 
Cartwright had promulgated the doctrine that all church 
government was unlawful, except that taught by the Apos- 
tles, which was the Presbyterian ] yet a few timely conces- 
sions from the Queen would have prevented its after agita- 
tion by the five famous commoners, and its final triumph, in 
the downfall of the hierarchy, and the establishment of 
Presbyterian Synods, by Cromwell and his military com- 
panions. 

The Queen and her Archbishops, blinded by the vindic- 
tive violence of their bigotry, were not satisfied with dismiss- 
ing the dissenting ministers from their benefices, — with 
venting their fury on private conventicles, and forcing all 
persons over sixteen years of age to attend some church of 
the Established order, on pain of banishment ; they were 
not contented with subjecting the hated Puritans to the in- 
quisitorial oath ex ofiicio, which violated that cherished 
maxim of common law, that no one could be compelled to 
criminate himself; but the Archbishop directed all pastors, 
not only to encourage, but positively to enjoin sports and 
pastimes on the Sabbath. This was a blow aimed directly 
at the Puritans. The Judaical strictness with which they 
kept holy this seventh day, — the severity with which they 
regarded the frivolities of the gay and the young, were the 
distinguishing features of their worship. Grave in their 
deportment, stern in all that regarded their religion, these 
hardy Dissenters could but ill brook this last insult to the 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 287 

peculiar tenets of their faith. They were not prone to 
anger, but in sullen silence they brooded over their injuries, 
till the demon of resistance was aroused among them, which 
only slept when their king was beheaded, and the constitu- 
tion overthrown. 

The only apology that even their eulogists attempt to 
offer for the short-sighted policy — to give it no harsher 
name — of the Queen's primates, is, that the safety of the 
Established Church depended on the total destruction of 
every denomination of Dissenters. Surely, worldly wisdom, 
unaided by the feelings of the Christian, should have taught 
these imperious advisers of the Queen in religions affairs, 
that the obstinacy of bold and sincere men was not to be 
quelled by punishment ; that the intrepidity with which the 
leaders suffered, did but teach their followers their duty to 
God and their religion. Persecution has never failed to 
make proselytes, and, after the forty years of uninterrupted 
molestation, during the reign of Elizabeth, the number of 
the Dissenters had greatly increased, their popularity had 
become more deeply rooted, and their enmity to the estab- 
lished order more irreconcilable. 

The first James was a willing, but not a daring tjTant. 
Had his courage been commensurate with his cruelty, the 
long and systematic persecutions of every denomination of 
Dissenters, under Elizabeth, would have appeared mild, 
compared with those under him. But the Puritans, having 
grown too strong to be zealously assailed by so timid a des- 
pot as James, enjoyed, during his whole reign, a respite 
from the active malevolence of his predecessor. The Cath- 
olics, too weak to be dangerous, became the especial objects 
of his malignity. Upon them he vented all the virulence of 
a disposition, which only wanted courage to render it truly 
dangerous. In persecuting Papists, he indulged in the lux- 



288 ENGLISH ITEMS. j| 

il 

ury of being cruel, without any uncomfortable fears of reij 
sistance or retaliation. | 

The austere piety of James's unfortunate son and suc4 
cesser, exerted an immediate and powerful influence upon 
the character of the church. Charles's sullen resolution in- 
spired his Primates with the requisite boldness to indulge 
their natural propensities for intolerance. The vindictive 
spirit of other days was kindled into a blaze, and Puritans 
and Catholics became once more fellow-sufferers. It was 
during the zealous revival of persecution, that the Estab- 
lished Church so startlingly manifested the feline fondness 
for toying with the victims of its tortures. Had it been 
simply fear or hatred of the growing sects of Protestant 
Dissenters which urged them to such extreme severities, the 
safest and most complete gratification of both feelings j 
would have been effectually to get rid of them. But per- 
mission to leave the kingdom was refused to Lord Say, , 
Hamden, Cromwell, and their followers, by Archbishop's ad- 
vice to the king. Though the hatred of these so-called 
" bold bad men " would have been gratified, and all fear of 
their machinations removed by their self-inflicted banish- 
ment to the wild shores of New England ; yet the Church 
would have lost half of its sweetest occupation, by allowing 
them to escape her. She would have henceforth been com- 
pelled to confine her gentle attentions to the Catholics, who 
presented much too narrow a field for the genius of Laud 
and his associates. And of course the king, who regarded 
the delight his church derived from the lingering torments 
of her victims as an innocent relaxation after her more 
serious duties were over, was much too pious to circumscribe 
her pleasures, by permitting one half of his best subjects 
to escape to America. 

The Puritans, surrounded, and pressed upon, without hope 
of escape, took redress into their own hands, and taught the 



PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 289 

Established Church, when too late, to dread the power they 
had trampled upon. But the poor Catholics, always unfor- 
tunate, continued to endure the bitterness of public persecu- 
tion, in addition to all those domestic sufferings, which the 
unsuccessful party in a civil war must always submit to. 
Adhering to Charles throughout his disastrous campaigns, 
their very virtue, in loyally defending the constitution 
against the encroachments of Parliament, became to them a 
new source of evil. Yet where are the eulogists of their 
devotion ; what applause has ever been awarded them for 
their heroic stand in favor of the constitution of England ? 
But we need not search far to find those who will tell us 
that the Primates of England, at this epoch, were the prop- 
erest and most godly of men. They, beyond doubt, contin- 
ued the formal routine of their duties, complacently pocket- 
ing the immense revenues arising from their sees, and 
saying a lengthy grace before every meal. But the strict 
performance of these ghostly duties is not all that England 
has to be grateful for. They reduced the Catholic popula- 
tion to the lowest depths of misery. They pursued the 
Protestant Dissenters with every species of atrocity. In 
their holy zeal, they brought sorrow and ruin to one half 
the hearths of Great Britain, and finally plunged the nation 
into the bloody horrors of a civil war. Yet whilst perform- 
ing these eminent services to the state they never omitted 
their weekly duty of praying to Heaven that it might please 
God " to keep all nations in unity ^ 'peace and concord!''' 

All persecution of dissenting Protestants ceased, of 
course, with the commencement of the civil war, and was 
never afterwards extensively revived. But the favor with 
which Charles II., on his restoration, regarded the unlucky 
Catholics, was sufficiently evident to make them the special 
objects of the suspicion and hatred of the public, without be- 
ing strong enough to protect them from the consequences. In 
13 



290 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the opinion of the multitude there was no crime too heinous 
for them to he guilty of, there was no evidence too trivial to 
convict them. They were even accused and believed guilty 
of the great fire of London, as the early Christians had been 
accused of the conflagration of Rome. Plots, murders, and 
conspiracies, were arrayed with fearful rapidity against 
them. Rye-fiouses and meal-tubs were alleged to be the ex- 
traordinary scenes of their plottings. The trade of public 
informer was then first known in England, and in falsely 
swearing the ^lestruction of the innocent Catholics, such 
wretches as Gates and Bedloe became the petted favorites 
of the English public. 

For rather more than a century the interdicted Pa- 
pists had known little else than a series of persecution, 
confiscation, test-oaths and public executions. The privacy 
of their homes had constantly been invadeil by spies ; and 
fear and suspicion had broken up the little circles of social 
enjoyments. Their brief public careers had been run in 
rebellions and civil war. Public tranquillity and domestic 
quiet had been equally denied to them. For a century more 
they continued the doomed objects of an implacable intoler- 
ance, when at the end of the reign of George II. religious 
commotions ceased. Jacobitism was only known in name, 
and the Catholics at last found peace in practical toleration. 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 291 



CHAPTER XL 

PEESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHUECII OF ENGLAND. 

THE present Church of England does no discredit to its 
origin and past career. It is what might have been ex- 
pected from the violence with which it was established, and 
the persecution with which it was sustained. It is a bloated, 
unsightly mass of formalities, hypocrisy, bigotry and self- 
ishness, without a single charitable impulse, or pious aspi- 
ration. It is a magnificent establishment, abounding in 
wealth and worldliness, oppression to the poor, and of no 
great spiritual service to the rich, which is maintained by 
government, and patronized by the aristocracy, as the conven- 
ient means of disposing of spendthrift '• younger sons," and 
accommodating aspiring parvenues, who have money to ex- 
change for position. Ministers are universally regarded as 
gentlemen in England, and people of obscure birth or igno- 
ble occupations may acquire easy access to gentility by pur- 
chasing a place in the church. 

That the Church of England numbers among its mem- 
bers many sincere and devout Christians I pretend not to 
deny, but I do assert that the system which has been adopted 
for its regulation precludes the possibility of its ministers 
being actuated by those exalted feelings which should always 
animate the teachers of Grod's holy word. The fact of all 
the church livings being regarded as property, must continue 
to provide ministers of the gospel only acquainted with the 



292 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

forms of religion : having no piety but their prayer-books, 
no morals but their black coats. According to the English 
notions of the duties of clergymen, they may be the proper- 
est and most exemplary men. They all wear white cravats, 
hate beggars, and collect their tithes with the most com- 
mendable regularity. They are united in their resistance 
to every attempt at reform, and are untiring in their exer- 
tions to render inviolable the antiquated abuses of the 
church ; they manifest their zeal by persecuting Catholics and 
cordially hating dissenters of every denomination ; they 
toadyize their patrons with the most Christian meekness, and 
display their regard for the honor of " the cloth," by begging 
or buying favor sufficient to unite in their own persons as 
many profitable livings as possible. Being conscious that a 
minister, like every other man in England, is respectable in 
proportion to his income, they show their zeal for the dignity 
of the church by violating its most sacred laws against 
Simony, in order to become rich by becoming pluralists. 
The Christian piety of these holy men, who exhibit their 
zeal by persecuting Catholics, and reviling dissenters, whilst 
they themselves indulge in the worst species of worldliness, 
calls to mind the delicate conscience of the corpulent founder 
of their church, who was too God-serving a man to commit 
adultery, but could piously cut off the head of an innocent 
wife in order to make way for a lust of more recent origin. 
I am not so visionary as to entertain a hope of rendering 
them immaculate, but I would have them Christians in ac- 
tion as in name. I am too thoroughly acquainted with the 
intense selfishness of an Englishman's nature to suppose that 
his duties to Heaven could induce him to sacrifice the ad- 
vantages of worldly position, or that a feeling of piety could 
produce even momentary forgetfulness of the fascinations 
of " belly-cheer," but I would have these appointed preachers 
of the gospel approach, in distant imitation at least, the 



TRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 293 

self-sacrijQ.cmg devotion of the Apostles, who went forth 
without scrip and without shoes to preach Christianity to the 
world. Their hearts and souls are absorbed in calculations of 
tithes, and struggles for richer livings, but they consider 
themselves acquitted of all they owe to Grod by the observ- 
ance of a few empty forms. The specious hypocrites care- 
fully envelop themselves in surplices, but manifest their 
worldliness by hankering after fat livings, instead of doing 
good works, as Achilles betrayed his sex, when disguised 
among the daughters of Lycomedes, by his preference for 
arms to jewels. 

These heartless worldlings are not only guilty of the 
deepest injustice to the members of the Established Church 
in monopolizing the benefices, by paying obsequious court 
to their owners, to the exclusion of abler and miore pious 
teachers whom the people might select, but they insult their 
helplessness by pocketing their money without pretending to 
observe those duties they are so well paid to perform. If 
they were contented with receiving an enormous salary for 
mechanically drawling through the morning and evening 
prayers, and indolently reading once a week a stupid ser- 
mon of fifteen minutes' length, without being animated by a 
single feeling that should influence a preacher, the injustice 
would be less glaring. If they were simply avaricious, the 
wrong would be less outrageous ; but they are energetically 
grasping. To become gay non-residents, and rich pluralists, 
they contemptuously discard even the semblance of those 
duties, which honor if not religion should demand from them 
for their flocks. The following startling abuses in the 
Church of England were exposed by returns recently made 
to Parliament, 

Number of benefices 10,98'7 

Resident incumbents 6,699 



294 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

JSTon-resident incumbents . . . . . SjTSG 

Vacancies and recent institutions .... 199 

Sequestrations 37 

No returns 316 

" The number of curates serving benefices on which the 
incumbents are non-residents is 2,711. The number of cu- 
rates assistant to resident incumbents is 2,032. total number 
of curates 4,743." Here it is seen that a third of the en- 
tire number of clergymen of the Established Church do not 
even reside in the parishes, over which they profess to pre- 
side, but leave the labor of their duties to starving curates, 
2,521 of whom receive less than £100 a year. By deduct- 
ing the number of curates employed in the benefices of non- 
resident incumbents, from the number of the non-residents 
themselves, it will be found that in more than a thousand 
benefices no religious service is performed, although their 
respective pastors are regularly pocketing their share of the 
$50,000,000, annually expended for the support of the Church 
of England. The monstrous fraud and injustice of such a 
system are too glaring to require comment. The facts 
themselves are their most eloquent condemnation. 

The nobility have so many extravagant younger sons, 
and dissipated poor relations to establish in life, who would 
degrade their families by engaging in any active pursuit ; 
there are so many of the young gentry, too proud to work, 
and yet not rich enough to be idle, for whom some lazy, 
honorable occupation must be provided, that the army, the 
navy, the public offices, and the colonies are insufl&cient 
to accommodate them all. The church, with its monstrous 
mass of impiety and injustice, must be retained, like the 
East India Board, as a more extended means of accommo- 
dation for the youthful drones, whom the aristocracy have 
thrown for support upon the hands of the people. But besides 
the assistance extended to the aristocracy, the government 



PRESENT STATE OP THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 295 

itself derives great power and profit from the patronage 
afforded by the church. And when we remember that it is 
composed of Englishmen, it would be madness to suppose 
that they would sacrifice such advantages to any conscien- 
tious scruples. It is true that those who purchase, or ac- 
cept the livings, are influenced by worldly rather than re- 
ligious considerations ; it is certain that the opportunity to 
enjoy an easy, indolent sort of existence, rather than a pious 
wish to dedicate their lives to Heaven, induces them to enter 
the church. But what is it to the government, though the 
religious instruction of the nation be intrusted to the world- 
liest of the worldly 1 What is it to them that the ministers, 
whose example is to influence, and piety direct their flocks, 
must perjure themselves by solemnly swearing when they 
are ordained, that they are moved to take orders by the 
Holy Ghost? What matters it though the vilest hypocrites 
occupy the holiest places, if their ends are accomplished, and 
their aristocracy sustained 7 The prayers are generally 
read by somebody, and the responses attended to. Could 
more be expected from an established church ? What must 
we think of the policy of an enlightened government, which 
could deliberately perpetrate such an outrage against the 
religious feelings of its subjects ? What opinion must we 
entertain of the piety of subjects, who could submit to it? 
If there be a crime on earth, for which even governments 
are amenable to Heaven, it is assembling on the hallowed 
Sabbath these mocking hypocrites before the altar of God. If 
there be sacrilege, which must sooner or later call down the 
wrath of an offended God, it is prostituting the holy offices 
of religion to the support of an order. 

One of the most active causes of the success of the Re- 
formation in England was the desire in the nation at large, to 
be freed from the domineering control and oppressive incomes 
of the priesthood. The great changes in the forms of religion 



296 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

were not so much the result of reasoning on theological sub- 
jects, as a conviction of the fraud and corruption existing in 
the Romish Church. The covetous and arrogant disposi- 
tions of the priests, and their vast temporal power, was what 
most disgusted the people, and made them eager for any re- 
volution which promised a reform of those abuses. But 
what did they gain by the change ? It was but a simple al- 
teration of names ; a mere transfer of authority from the 
Catholic priesthood to the Reformed clergy. The sceptre of 
the king was substituted for the keys of St. Peter. The crown 
usurped the place of the tiara. The patronage of the livings 
belonging to the Pope fell to the share of Henry VIII ; those 
benefices which had been claimed by the Abbots and Priors 
were transferred to the Bishops, and those of the Catholic no- 
bility to the greedy favorites of the fat king. An enormous 
amount of money was appropriated to give grandeur and mag- 
nificence to the new establishment. The value of church pro- 
perty has been estimated at the almost incredible sum of 
$900,000,000. Bishops were lodged and supported like 
princes, and ordinary pastors like nobles. Mr. Baring many 
years ago stated in the House of Commons, that the income 
of the Bishop of London amounted to the astounding sum of 
$500,000. Great pomp and ceremony were preserved in 
order to render the services imposing in the eyes of the mul- 
titude. No pains were spared to make the offices of the 
Reformed church respectable among all classes, and the im- 
mense expense incurred in their endowment caused them to 
be eagerly sought for by the aristocracy. In this gorgeous 
worship, religion lacks nothing but its devotion, the creed is 
only deficient in sincerity. It is maintained at an expense 
equal to that of all the other Christian denominations in the 
world. It is supposed that the support of the Church of 
England annually costs the government £9,459,565, whilst 
all the Christians of the rest of the world pay to their minis- 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 297 

ters but £9,949,000. It seems, therefore, that the High 
Church of England, with 6.500,000 hearers, requires for its 
maintenance as great an expense as all the other forms of 
Christianity in the universe, with 203,728.000 hearers. It is 
a favorite theme with High-churchmen to descant upon the 
splendid displays and absurd extravagance in the adminis- 
tration of the Catholic church, but on examination it will be 
found that the Reformed Church of England costs the peo- 
ple 40 times as much to every million of hearers, as the ad- 
ministration of Papacy in France, to the same number of 
hearers. The monstrous excess in the pay of the English 
clergy appears from comparing their incomes with those of 
dignitaries of corresponding rank in other countries. The 
pay of a Bishop in France is $3,125, and that of a rector is 
$250. In Rome the income of a Cardinal, next in dignity 
to the Pope, $2,500 ; that of a rector of a parish $1 50. But 
in England many of the Bishops have been receiving over 
$100,000, whilst we have seen that the income of one 
amounted to half a million ; and there are rectories in that 
country valued at $40,000 and $50,000. We very naturally 
suppose that extraordinary devotion among the people, or 
the vastly superior religious instruction afforded by their pas- 
tors, must demand this amazing preponderance in the pay of 
the English clergy. But we have already seen that there 
are more than one thousand benefices, in which religious 
services are utterly neglected, and we can entertain no very 
high opinion of the pious solicitude of the people, who sub- 
mit to the appointment of their pastor by the owner of the 
manor, with the same indifference they might be supposed to 
feel about his selection of a horse for a fox-hunt. 

I contend that this outrageously wasteful extravagance 

in the church establishment, is not simply an oppression to 

an already overloaded people, but that it deprives them of 

proper religious teaching, by inducing ambitious worldlings 

13^ 



298 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

to sue for the positions wliich Heaven intended for tlie 
pious and lowly. But we are informed that this enormous 
outlay is essential to the dignity of the church. If the sim- 
ple majesty of Christianity had been insufficient to impress 
the hearts of men, it would have proved somewhat difficult 
for its humble founder, born in a stable, to establish its ten- 
ets. What wealth, what pomp, what magnificence, did the 
apostles carry into strange lands to dazzle converts to the 
new faith ? The glare and glitter of show and parade are 
not more important now than they were then. The unaf- 
fected devotion and active zeal of one devoutly pious pastor, 
would command more real respect than the ostentatious 
profusion of all the pluralists and non-residents in the king- 
dom. It is the cause of the aristocracy, not that of Heaven, 
which is promoted by this vast expenditure in support of 
the Established Church. But the advocates of this ruinous 
system pretend to deem parks, palaces, plate, and equipages 
indispensable to the dignity of these magnificent prelates, 
whose divine Master made his entry into Jerusalem on the 
colt of an ass. Mansions, villas, warrens, and manorial 
rights are thought necessary for their amusement, whilst 
" the Son of man had not where to lay his head." Is it 
strange that in giving to the bishops the wealth and posi- 
tion, the government should also give them the worldliness 
of nobles ? In becoming rivals of the aristocracy in fortune, 
is it not natural that they should become their rivals in ex- 
travagance and dissipation ? 

A bishop, " being a man, must feel like one." When he 
finds himself surrounded by every refined enjoyment that 
luxury can invent or wealth afford, and feels compelled by 
his position to vie in sumptuousness with the proudest of 
the land, it is but natural that his thoughts should turn from 
heaven to earth. When he feels that his money, not his 
piety, gives him consideration among his fellows, he must be 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 299 

more or less than man, if he does not soon learn to exult 
more in his magnificence than his lowliness. When he dis- 
covers that profusion more than charity purchases the ap- 
plause of men, when he feels convinced that the grandeur of 
a spiritual lord rather than the devotion of the preacher of 
the gospel commands their respect, it would be strange in- 
deed if his heart did not sink from God to mammon. World- 
ly affluence soon bounds all his hopes. Fashionable pre- 
eminence becomes his highest ambition, parade his chief 
delight. Such would be the result even if these holy men 
had been originally actuated by sincere feelings of piety. 
Remember the author of the proverb, that '• it is easier for a 
camel to pass thTOugh the eye of a needle, than for a rich 
man to enter the kingdom of heaven." But I feel confident 
of being able to prove, before the end of this chapter, that 
the clergy enter the church as they would pursue any other 
profession which promised success to an ambitious man. 

These worthy bishops piously exhort their followers to 
" take no heed of what ye shall eat, nor what ye shall drink, 
nor for your bodies, what ye shall put on," whilst they load 
their own sumptuous tables with every delicacy that the coun- 
try can afford, stock their cellars with the rarest wines, and 
array themselves in the costliest importations from France. In 
their lazy dreams of sensual enjoyment, they seem wholly 
oblivious of the scriptural injunction to " take care that your 
hearts be not charged with surfeiting and drunkenness, and 
the cares of this life." But though they annually squander 
millions of the people's money, in sustaining the " pride, 
pomp, and circumstance " of their positions, yet I must con- 
fess, strange as it may seem, that in obedience to the com- 
mand " distribute to the poor, and seek treasures in heaven," 
they still find the means generously to feed the hungry with 
religious tracts, and to relieve the wretched by praying for 
them. Who can henceforward impugn the piety of a Bishop? 



300 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

He should be named a fountain of charity as of grace in 
England. Who can now pretend that when the poor beg 
for bread, he gives them a stone ? If a haggard victim of 
disease appeals to his sympathies in behalf of a starving fam- 
ily at home, he unhesitatingly presents him a tract, ingen- 
iously illustrating the beauties of faith, in the touching inci- 
dent of Elijah and the poor widow, with the handful of meal, 
and a little oil in the cruse. Should a helpless mother im- 
plore his assistance to bury one child already dead, among 
her others who are slowly dying of the typhus fever, he 
piously assures her that she shall be remembered in his 
prayers. The magnanimity of such self-sacrificing charity 
will be better appreciated, when it is remembered that the 
tracts are gratuitously furnished him by the religious so- 
cieties, and that even decency demands that he should occa- 
sionally pray for the health and prosperity of the kingdom. 
The poor mother is probably included in this general prayer, 
if he does not entirely forget her application a half an hour 
after she quitted his door. As an evidence that the cases in 
which the charities of the bishops might relieve starvation 
are not altogether imaginary, I give the following extract 
from the London Observer, made during my visit to Eng- 
land last summer. 

Death from Starvation, — Last night Mr. Brent held an inquest 
upon Jonathan Nicholls, aged 51. Deceased, whose body was a mere 
skeleton, had been foi'merlj a schoolmaster, but was latterly so reduced 
as to be compelled to earn his livelihood by writing window bills for 
tradesmen, and with all his industry sometimes only realized a few 
pence a-week. The parish allowed a loaf a- week for the support of 
himself and his wife, who is paralyzed. During the last twelve months 
deceased was daily sinking from sheer starvation, but still buoyed up 
with the hope of getting some property to which he was entitled. On 
Monday morning his wife found him dead in bed at her side. The 
following day he became entitled to £120 cash, and £60 a-year. Mr. 
Lutheron, surgeon, deposed that death resulted from want and disease 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 301 

of the lungs. The foreman, on behalf of the jury, expressed their hor- 
ror and disgust at the parochial authorities limiting the support of de- 
ceased and his paralyzed wife to a solitary loaf of bread a-week, in- 
stead of inquiring into their wants, and contributing a sufficient quan- 
tity of food for their support. The coroner summed up, and the jury 
returned a verdict in accordance with the medical evidence. 

If a man in the position that this one evidently had been, 
could die so terrible a death, how appalling must be the 
condition of the millions, born in degradation, and reared in 
ignorance. 

I wish not to intimate that the mean privations of the 
ascetic constitute my ideas of Christian humility. The ter- 
rible lacerations, to which the solitary enthusiasts of early 
times subjected their weak frames, are revolting alike to my 
ideas of religion and humanity. I cannot believe that cor- 
poreal punishment prepares a man's soul for heaven, though 
inflicted by his own hands. We all know that so intimately 
are man's physical and intellectual natures interwoven, — so 
nicely are they dependent on each other, that intense corpo- 
real suffering will turn the firmest mind from undisturbed 
thoughts of heaven itself But leaving the excruciating 
agonies endured by the mad devotees of the desert out of 
the question — simple want will fill the most magnanimous 
soul with its own selfish repinings. The cries of nature 
must be heard. Comfort is not only the basis of all happi- 
ness, but it is absolutely indispensable to any concentrated 
action of the mind ; and so far from those numberless little 
enjoyments which civilization has rendered essential to com- 
fort being inconsistent with the beautiful simplicity of the 
faith taught by our Saviour, I think that a certain degree 
of intellectual pleasure, and even elegant luxury, greatly in- 
creases that contemplative fervor, which every minister 
should bring to his profession. I cannot think that any 
pastor could faithfully discharge his duties, who does not 



302 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

enjoy not only tlie mere necessaries of life, but many of its 
more refined indulgences. The mind must borrow healthy 
vigor from the body. But, surely, the clergy of England 
exceed those rational pleasures, so necessary to social con- 
tentment, when they surpass the richest citizens of the richest 
country upon earth in luxurious splendor, and vie with 
the proudest nobles in gorgeous disjolays. The mind, even 
of the most pious, when constantly dwelling on gilded trifles, 
and eternally occupied with thoughts of pomp, parade and 
position, must sooner or later, in spite of itself, imbibe a 
worldly pride and ostentation, little becoming the leaders^ 
of a great church. It seems to me that the Archbishop 
should teach every member of the Established Church his 
duty to his Maker, not only by his precepts, but his exam- 
ple. He should remember the advice of Jesus to the rich 
young man, to give all he had to the poor, and forsaking all 
things to follow him. Notwithstanding their princely in- 
comes, the Bishops, in becoming ambitious of rivalling the 
richest and most dissipated, in their Bacchanalian revels, de- 
prive themselves of the means, even if they retained the in- 
clination, to perform the charities which their exalted rank 
in the church and enormous wealth give the world a right 
to expect from them. 

I would have a clergyman live and dress like a gentle- 
man, without committing any of the absurd excesses pe- 
culiar to that caricature upon the species, known as a 
dandy. I would have him indulge in all the innocent gayeties 
of the social circle. I never could understand the gloomy 
fanaticism of those who would have religion banish every 
thing like mirth from the human heart, who would fain 
make a smile a misdemeanor, and a laugh a crime. I could 
never satisfactorily determine why a sorrowful expression 
of countenance should indicate a pious mind, or a ragged 
coat be considered an evidence of a holy state of feeling. 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 303 

And those who would make the Sabbath a day of mourning 
instead of rest and cheerful relaxation, it seems to me have 
strangely misconstrued the spirit of the Scriptures. 

There is nothing morose about Christianity. The hearts 
of those who profess it should be filled with rejoicing and 
good will towards men. Thrice blessed is he whose soul is 
gladdened by feelings of true religion ; for it is, after all, 
the only unalloyed pleasure enjoyed in this world. Success 
brings satiety, excitement is followed by reaction, but the 
happiness of sincere piety charms, when " pleasures cease to 
please." It but beams the brighter in misfortune, and 
will throw a halo of ineffable contentment around the sad- 
dest soul. Joy as naturally springs from religion, as his 
matinal carol from the lark. At the birth of our Saviour 
they came into the world together, " when the good tidings 
of great joy" were announced to the shepherds in the witch- 
ing minstrelsy of rejoicing angels. The doleful looks and 
dismal groans of the mistaken zealots, who delight, in pro- 
fessing religion, to play the profound mummery of woe, have 
always seemed to me as absurd as unnatural. 

The twenty-four Bishops and two Archbishops of Eng- 
land are a burden, as oppressive as unnecessary to the peo- 
ple. How have they changed the simple form of worship, 
preached by the followers of our Saviour ! They have sub- 
stituted ostentation for humility, worldliness for devotion. 
They promise vile lucre, rather than heavenly glory, as a 
reward to the faithful servants of the church. They have 
made religion a burden, instead of a blessing, to the peo- 
ple. What opinion must wo entertain of the usefulness of 
a church, whose principle is avarice, and whose practice is 
tyranny ? Selfishness, not charity, animates the bosoms of 
the Bishops. They persist in defending the hoary abuses 
of the church, for the worldly advantage of themselves and 
their relations, though they fall with crushing weight on the 



304 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

widow and the orphan. They are the modern Scribes and 
Pharisees, loving the high places at feasts and in the syna- 
gogue. The applause of men, rather than the silent appro- 
bation of God, animates them to do good deeds. They de- 
light to pray aloud, and to do their alms before men. Their 
souls are absorbed in the accumulation of wealth, and their 
minds busied in providing rich livings for their relatives 
and friends. Their dioceses should be abolished, and their 
mitres broken. They should be driven from the church, as 
the money-changers and' those who sold doves were expelled 
from the Temple by our Saviour ; for they have filled the 
house of God with the tumult of traffic, and made the sacred 
offices of religion a trade. 

What are the duties of the Bishops and Archbishops, 
that they should be so liberally pensioned from the pockets 
of the people ? The Bishops do not preach. They never 
see the clergymen over whom they are appointed oftener 
than once in three years, when they make a hurried visit to 
the principal towns of their dioceses. But, even if they were 
most inclined conscientiously to fulfil the duties of their 
stations, they are compelled to be absent from their dioceses 
at least five months of every year, to occupy their seats 
among the hereditary lawgivers of the land in the House of 
Lords. They have no real authority to correct the abuses 
of the parochial clergy. Indeed, they rather encourage, by 
their own appointments, the fatal practice of non-residence 
and pluralities, which last the canons of the church denounce 
as "execrable before God." Should a Bishop bring a de- 
linquent minister before his court, and convict him, the min- 
ister snaps his fingers at the decree, and claims his living as 
his freehold — too often a purchased one. If an effi)rt is 
made to carry the sentence into effect, the guilty clergyman 
appeals from court to court, till at last he casts the charges 
on the Bishop, when they have been swelled to such an 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 306 

amount, as effectually to prevent tlie Right Reverend Gen- 
tleman's trying so expensive an experiment for the future. 
The Archbishops are still more useless. They do not ap- 
point the Bishops, nor can they remove them. They cannot 
even call them together in convocation, without the sove- 
reign's concurrence. It is true that the Archbishop of Can- 
terbury is called upon to anoint the monarch, should a coro- 
nation occur, and that he is expected to christen the royal 
offspring. But, surely, one coronation during his incum- 
bency, and a christening every year, which sometimes hap- 
pens, ought scarcely to entitle his Grace of Canterbury to 
the luxury of Lambeth Palace, and an income of $75,000 
a year; But the performance of religious duties seems to 
be as little looked for, as piety in the twenty-six spiritual 
Lords of Great Britain. Pelf and power engross all their 
solicitude. They count their enormous revenues, dispense 
rich livings and fat sinecures to their relations and depend- 
ants, — silently vote, in their places in Parliament, for every 
oppressive measure proposed by the existing government, 
and their duty is done. 

To illustrate the tender consideration of the Bishops for 
the members of their own families, in generously bestowing 
on them rich livings and sinecures, in defiance of the strin- 
gent laws of the Church against non-residents and plural- 
ists, I beg to call the attention of my readers to the case of 
the Right Rev. Mr. Sparke, Bishop of Ely. By a series of 
forced resignations and translations, it was finally arranged 
so that " the Rev. J. Henry Sparke held at the same time 
the living of Leverington, the sinecure rectory of Little- 
burg, the living of Bexwell, and a prebendal stall in the 
Cathedral of Ely : he was, besides, steward of all his father's 
manorial courts, and Chancellor of the diocese. The esti- 
mated annual value of the whole, $22,500." 

" The Rev. Henry Fardell, the Bishop's son-in-law, held 



306 p:nglish items. 

the living of Waterbeach, the vicarage of Wisbech, and a 
prebendal stall in Ely Cathedral. The estimated annual 
value of his preferments $18,500." 

" The Kev. Edward Sparke held the consolidated livings 
of St. May and St. Nicholas, Feltwell, the vicarage of Lit- 
tleport and a prebendal stall in Ely ; he was Register of the 
diocese and Examining Chaplain to his father. The esti- 
mated annual value of his appointments not less than 
$20,000." 

" The Bishop's see of Ely and dependencies — $138,710. 
Total income of the Sparke family— $199,710." 

Quite a comfortable little family arrangement. We 
shall give Prettyman, Bishop of Winchester, as another in- 
stance of this charming system. It could never be objected 
to him, as will be seen from the following list, that his 
children were left destitute in the world. 

" a. T. Prettyman ; 

Chancellor and Canon Residentiary of Lincoln ; 
Prebendary of Winchester; 
Rector of St. Giles, Chalfont ; 
Rector of Wheat-Hampstead ; 
Rector of Harpendon." 

"Richard Prettyman; 

Precentor and Canon Residentiary of Lincoln ; 
Rector of Middleton, Stoney ; 
Rector of Walgrave ; 
Vicar of Hanuington ; 
Rector of Wroughton." 

" John Prettyman ; 
Prebendary of Lincoln ; 
Rector of Sherrington ; 
Rector of Winwick." 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 307 

The profuse liberality of these Reverend prelates will 
be properly appreciated, when it is remembered at what 
sacrifices it was indulged. The oaths that were violated, 
and the pangs of conscience that were braved, in order to 
make these hopeful young sons rich, should render the con- 
duct of their pious fathers doubly praiseworthy. It is a man's 
first duty to provide for his family. The Bishop's '• charity 
has improved on the proverb, and ended where it began." 
I give these two instances of a practice, universal among 
the Bishops, of concentrating in the persons of their imme- 
diate relations the most valuable livings in the church. 
How lenient ought we to be to the peccadilloes of the sub- 
ordinate clergy of a church, whose heads so unhesitatingly 
violate its most solemn edicts against non-residence and 
pluralities. 

The inequality in the value of the sees is another fruitful 
source of abuses in the church. It is an ingenious contriv- 
ance of the government to support that huge fabric of corrup- 
tion. Though certain of finding these churchmen the most 
active enemies to reform, as they have ever been the ablest 
supporters of oppression, bigotry and persecution, yet un- 
willing to confide wholly in the power of depraved disposi- 
tions, the government has united the interest of the Bish- 
ops to their natural proneness to evil, and holds out the pro- 
motion to the wealthier sees, as an enticing reward for their 
treachery to the people; and apostacy to God. A Bishop 
never feels fixed till he has obtained one of the richer prizes 
of Canterbury, Winchester, London or Ely. The exciting 
hopes and fears, the eternal intrigues and worldly coali- 
tions, which must be resorted to in order to run the scale of 
church preferments, are but little in accordance with the 
quiet devotion and humility of a devout Christian. The 
power which the government possesses of translating Bish- 
ops from one see to another, makes them the most servile of 



308 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

legislators. Their anxiety to curry court favor, sufficient to 
promote their ambitious views, unfits them for their secular 
duties. They and their clergy have always been hostile to 
the rights of the people ; they have always been opposed to 
progress and reform ; and have ever been the zealous sup- 
porters of every tyrannical measure, proposed by the govern- 
ment. From the year 1778, when the first tardy step was 
taken towards the amelioration of English Catholics, to the 
final passage of the Catholic Relief Bill in 1829, the oppo- 
sition of the Spiritual Lords was united, and unwavering. 
From those earliest bills, introduced by Edmund Burke and 
supported by Mr. Fox, for repealing particular statutes, 
which chiefly prevented the English Roman Catholics from 
safely and quietly enjoying their landed property ; and those 
other bills advocated by Mr. Pitt, in which the free exercise 
of their religion was, to a considerable extent, secured to 
them, and several penalties and disabilities, under which 
they had labored, were removed ; through all the eflforts of 
Mr. Grattan to obtain for them their elective franchise, and 
their right to hold seats in Parliament, to the final passage 
of the Reform Bill, 10th April, 1829, the Bishops were dis- 
tinguished by the bitterest hostility. A law which increases 
the social or religious freedom of the people, is as certain to 
be opposed by the Bishops, as one which confers new rights 
and greater power on the aristocracy is sure to be supported 
by them. Their position enables them to do much evil, 
though their undisguised worldliness deprives them of the 
power of doing much good in the community. The advan- 
tages of wealth and education, which they enjoy, secure for 
them a dangerous influence in a country where gold is so 
much worshipped, and education so little known as in Eng- 
land. Their superior intelligence enables the clergy to re- 
concile the people to the most ruinous measures of oppres- 
sion, though their evident want of piety makes their religious 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 309 

instruction fall on unheeding ears. They are the servants 
of the aristocracy, and the representatives of the worldli- 
ness, and can therefore have but few feelings in common 
with the people and devotion. Instead of the most aflFec- 
tionate confidence between the pastor and his flock, there al- 
ways exists an ill-concealed distrust of each other. There 
can be no sympathy between them, and therefore no confi- 
dence. 

When a Bishop's mind is absorbed by the assiduous at- 
tentions and servile compliance, with which he must pursue 
some noble patron, who is to recommend him to the notice 
of government but few of his thoughts can be reserved for 
heaven. No man can serve two masters. And when it is 
remembered with what tenacious fondness the Bishops 
cling to the emoluments of their offices ; when it is remembered 
with what reluctance they have given even the vaguest in- 
formation as to the profits of their sees ; when we call to 
mind the frauds in which they have been detected by the 
commissioners appointed to ascertain the amount of their 
incomes, it will not be difficult to determine whether God 
or mammon reigns in their bosoms. The course of the Bish- 
ops was as much opposed to the conduct of men of honor as 
of Christians. Their practices were as dishonest as unholy. 
In the year 1830, the Archbishop of Canterbury's income 
was stated by his advocate. Dr. Lushington, to be $160,000. 
The very next year the return made to the commissioners 
was, gross $1 10,000, net $95,910, and on the ground of pro- 
spective diminution, it was written down $85,000. Yet 
during the seven years ending 1843, the Archbishop received, 
with the knowledge of the commissioners, an average in- 
come of $105,000. Such a proceeding on the part of an 
ordinary individual would have insured his transportation 
to Botany Bay, but in an Archbishop it passed over without 
punishment, and almost without comment. But this fraud, 



310 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

stupendous as it seems, is far surpassed in enormity by that 
practised by the Bishop of London. In 1831 the Bishop's 
income was given at $69,645. Between that year and 1843 
a small city of elegant mansions arose on the Bishop's Pad- 
dington estate, calculated to produce in rents to the future 
Bishops of London $500,000 per annum. During this pe- 
riod this prelate had granted about two thousand leases, 
and yet his Lordship's income was given in by himself, in the 
year 1843, at $62,000, which was $7,645 less than it was in 
1831, before a stone of the new houses on the property had 
been laid. Surely a surplice does cover a multitude of sins. 
A Bishop is evidently a privileged personage in England. 
" Such are the effects of a State-Church on those, who, be- 
fore they suffered the moral paralysis of ordination and con- 
secration, were probably men of average virtue and honor." 

The Bishops, instead of being distinguished by that zeal- 
ous independence of spirit which characterized the conduct 
of John Knox, e'ven in the presence of his sovereign, and 
which should animate every Christian endued with a proper 
sense of his duty, are always found the fawning flatterers 
of power, " Sufferance is the badge of all their tribe." 
But these aspiring sycophants certainly receive their re- 
wards in this world, and may possibly get their deserts in 
the next. They seem to be well aware that merit is rarely 
considered in the distribution of church preferments, and 
therefore pay their court to nobles with votes and influ- 
ence to give the government, who are to advance their 
spiritual interests. From the following list it will be seen 
how successfully they have exerted their genius for servility. 
•• Lowliness is young ambition's ladder." How many men, 
from the humble pedagogues to youthful peers, have climbed 
into being their mitred equals, in the House of Lords. At 
the same period we find 

ToMLiNE, Bishop of Winchester, tutor to Pitt. 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 311 

Bethel, Bishop of Gloucester, tutor to the Duke of 
Northumberland. 

Bloomfield, Bishop of Chester, married into the Har- 
7ey family. 

Sharpe, Bishop of Ely, tutor to the Duke of Rutland. , 

Pelham, Bishop of Lincoln, brother to the Earl of Chi- 
chester. 

Huntingdon, Bishop of Hereford, tutor to Lord Sid- 
mouth. 

HowLEY, Bishop of London, tutor to the Prince of 
Orange. 

Law, Bishop of Bath and Wells, brother to Lord Ellen- 
borough. 

To these may be added a list of holy gentlemen who 
owed their advancement wholly to family interest. 

Grey, Bishop of Hereford, brother of Lord Grey. 

PoYNTON, Bishop of Derry, brother-in-law of Lord Grey. 

Byder, Bishop of Lichfield, brother of Lord Harroby. 

Bagot, Bishop of Oxford, brother of Lord Bagot. 

Vernon, Archbishop of York, brother of the late Lord 
Vernon. 

If the trouble should be taken to examine any other 
period of church history, the same senseless favoritism or 
unscrupulous family pride will be found to have caused the 
advancement of most of the higher ecclesiastics of the land. 

It is true that the former unlimited and exorbitant in- 
comes of the Bishops have been restrained by Parliament 
within established limits ; Canterbury and the larger sees 
being fixed at the moderate sum of $75,000. But when 
such shameless abuses have been exposed and are daily being 
brought to light, what assurance can the government give the 
people that the same disreputable practices do not exist in 
all the sees ? Read the following extract from the London 
Daily News, made during my visit to England : 



312 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

0\rERPAiD Bishops. — Durham. — Salisbury. — Worcester. — It appears, 
from a parliamentary paper issued since the dissolution, that in the six- 
teen years during which the Eight Rev. Dr. Maltby has been Bishop i 
of Durham, the net receipts of his episcopal revenues have been £342, ' 
143, and that, during this period, he has paid to the Ecclesiastical Com- 
missioners the sum of £180,127. Deducting, then, the payment from | 
receipts, the Bishop has, it is clear, enjoyed an episcopal income of up- j 
Yv^ards of £10,000 a-year since the year 1836. But in another parlia- 
mentary paper, issued in 1851, may be found the opinion of the law 
officers of the crown given in 1836 — the present Chief Justice of Eng- 
land having been one of them — that "the distinct object of the legis- 
lature appears to us to have been, that the sum payable by the Bishop 
of Durham should be fixed in the first instance at an amount calculat- 
ed in the judgment of the Commissioners to leave him a net revenue of 
£8,000, and that this income should remain fixed during his incumben- 
cy." Now, this interpretation of the act has never been impeached or 
doubted by Dr. Maltby. It follows, therefore, that that right reverend 
prelate has, in the last sixteen years, received from the see of Durham 
at least £32,000 more than it was "the distinct object of the legislature " 
he should receive. From the same paper, it appears, that in the first 
fifteen years' incumbency of the see of Salisbury by Dr. Denison, he 
has received the net sum of £93,954, or about £6,263 a year. Now, in 
the Blue Book issued last year, may also be found an opinion given by 
the present Chief Justice Campbell, Lord Justice Lord Cran worth, and 
the Judge of the Court of Arches, in which it is stated that, from the 
plain intent of the legislature, it was competent to the Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners "to charge the Bishop of Salisbury with a contribution, if 
it appears that the annual revenue of that see exceeds £5000." In 1837, 
after this opinion was given. Dr. Denison was skilful enough to induce 
the Commissioners to come to the opinion that the average income of 
the see of Salisbury did not exceed £5,500 ; and therefore the Commis- 
sioners did " not think it right to i*ecommend any diminution of it ; " 
whereupon this fortunate prelate "expressed his sense of the Commis- 
sioners' attention," and from that day down to the beginning of 1852, 
has not paid one penny by way of contribution. As, however, in the 
opinion of the three great and eminent lawyers and judges we have 
mentioned, his income during those fifteen years ought only to have 
been £5,000 — equal in the aggregate to £60,000 — it follows that the 
excess received by Dr. Denison beyond that handsome amount has, 
morally and arithmetically, been overpaid him. Now his actual re- 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 313 

ceipts have been £93,959, whereas they ought only to have been £60, 
000. Clearly, then, on every principle that ought to regulate a Chris- 
tian, Dr. Denison now stands indebted to the Ecclesiastical Commission- 
ers of England and Wales in the sum of £33,959, — without charging 
him any interest for the time he has had that amount in his safe keep- 
ing. Proceeding from Salisbury to Worcester, we find that Dr. Pepys 
has been Bishop thereof for nearly 12 years. In the first ten of those 
years, his net receipts reached £79,418 ; and of them he paid over to 
the Ecclesiastical Commission £23,443 ; leaving him £55,975 for him- 
self. But as the amount of income contemplated by the Act, for the 
See of Worcester, was only £5,000, or £50,000 in ten years ; Dr. Pepys 
has, it is clear, received £5,975 more than the legislature intended. His 
duty, under such circumstances, is plain and clear ; he ought to make 
restitution of that balance to the Ecclesiastical Commission. And we 
make this suggestion, and request that Dr. Maltby should refund the 
£32,000, Dr. Denison the £33,959, and Dr. Pepys the £5,975, which 
they have received above their fixed income. 

Much relief was to have been afforded the people by the 
act of parliament, fixing the incomes of the Bishops. In- 
deed a great hubbub about the reformation of the abuses of 
Church and State is a periodical occurrence in England. 
Meetings are held, addresess are made, petitions drawn up, 
and reform ! reform ! echoes through the country. Parliament 
opens with a set speech by some patriotic member, who in 
touching strains lays the subject before " the House." 
Resolutions are passed, commissioners are appointed, reports 
made, and a bill passed, which is altogether to abolish the 
doomed nuisance. The expectations of the people are natu- 
rally high, their rejoicings exulting. The Relief Bill prom- 
ises every thing ; it accomplishes nothing. One-half of the 
amount, received under the new law by the commissioners, 
has been generously appropriated to the palaces and estates 
of the Bishops. The other half is consumed in the repairs of 
cathedrals and parsonages, and in the salaries of the com- 
missioners themselves, and their swarm of satellites, with- 
out whom it would be impossible for any commission to 
14 



314 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

exist in England, How mncli better would it have been 
when it was determined not to lessen the burdens of the 
people, to have appropriated the accumulated fund for 
the increase of the livings of the poor clergy, instead of 
squandering it on the Bishops, who not only receive enor- 
mous incomes, and have palaces furnished for their conven- 
ience, but they must have vast sums for beautifying these 
palaces, in which they live rent-free. In the eight dioceses 
given in the list below, which have profited by the commis- 
sioners' fund there were 502 benefices worth less than $500 
a year, and 85 under $250, whilst many of the Bishops are 
in the annual receipt of $75,000, with their magnificent 
palaces, and estates in addition, and there are some rectors 
whose livings bring them $40,000 and $50,000 per annum. 
These Bishops are as fatal to the church, as ruinous to the 
people. They are like the mistletoe, which saps and destroys 
the tree it seems to adorn. 

In 1847 the commissioners had received $1,755,000, of 
which $715,000 were lavished on the palaces and estates of 
Bishops in the following proportions : 

Lincoln, ..... $263,520 

Eochester, . . . . . 1 27, 635 

Gloucester, . i . . . 114,485 

Ripon, ..... 68,435 

Worcester, ..... 35,000 

Oxford, ..... 32,345 

Exeter, ...... 17,500 

Bath and Wells, .... 20,000 

After such an exposition, it seems to me the people would 
cease to be gulled by these mockeries of reform. By this 
wonderful Bill of Belief nobody was benefited but the com- 
missioners. The people had the same taxes to pay; and 
the Bishops were not allowed to dispose of their former in- 
comes as they pleased, but must take part of them in the 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 315 

form of repairs to palaces, and improvements on estates. 
But such is always the game played by the government 
when acting in obedience to the cries of "reform." The 
new statutes merely change the destination of the amounts 
raised by taxes, instead of removing them altogether. The 
same oppression continues to exist, but is considerately dis- 
guised under a new name. Reform measures are held out 
as a blind to amuse the people, as the crimson flags in 
bull-fighting are presented to distract the attention of the 
bull from the armed man behind. 

The Bishops' antipathy to beggars probably arises from 
professional jealousy. Having discovered the advantages 
of the pursuit, they are reluctant to have it crowded by too 
large a number of professors. If these helpless prelates 
could be tempted to preach at all, it would be to utter a 
tirade against the vagrants who piteously plead for a penny 
in the streets ; whilst they themselves complacently pocket a 
couple of hundred thousand dollars, which they have succeed- 
ed in begging for beautifying their palaces. The difi'erent man- 
ner of receiving these two classes of beggars satisfactorily 
exhibits a strange contradiction in England, which prompts 
the nation to assist the strong, and abuse the weak. The 
idolatry displayed in England for every thing like greatness, 
is amazing. A great scoundrel receives a sympathy which 
a petty one could never hope to obtain. A mendicant 
Bishop, with palaces, estates, and a vast income provided for 
his support, pursues his avocation of begging with honor 
and success ; whilst the starving Lazarus, imploring the 
crumbs that fall from the rich man's table, is scorned, re- 
viled, and even punished for daring to ask for bread. The 
rosy, reverend gentleman of the Church, whose magnificent 
provision should place him above the degradation of alms- 
asking, is lodged in a palace ; but the wretched pauper, who 
supplicates charity in the form of half-pence, is lodged in 



IMQ ENGLISH ITEMS. 

tlie house of correction. One begs from a naturally grovel- 
ling disposition, and is rewarded with distinction ; the other 
begs from necessity, and is punished with infamy. The 
Bishops hate beggars, because they must share with them 
the mite of public charity, which would otherwise fall undi- 
vided to their lot. The fortunate recipients of thousands 
of pounds in the shape of charity^ they are too greedy to 
abandon a few paltry half-pence to the wretches they them- 
selves have assisted to make. In the collection of tithes, 
what orphan was ever spared, or widow respected ? " Woe 
unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye devour 
widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers : 
therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation !" 

But when we remember the extremes which each worthy 
Bishop attempts to reconcile in his own disposition, it no 
longer seems wonderful that he needs the charitable assist- 
ance of government, to keep his dwelling in repair. A 
Bishop would be ostentatious, and at the same time econom- 
ical ; he would fain be lavish and saving, would appear pro- 
fuse in expenditure whilst he is sordid in practice. I know 
of no two qualities more difficult to sustain without vast 
sums of money. A prelate has certainly a most trouble- 
some task to accomplish. To sustain the dignity of the 
Church he must vie in splendor and parade with his wealthy 
rivals among the temporal Lords, at the same time that he 
secures consideration for himself and provides for his family 
by hoarding an immense fortune. With two objects, so ex- 
pensive to attain, 'tis not surprising that the Bishops should 
be destitute of the means of indulging in charity, or repair- 
ing their palaces. GJ-entlemen oppressed by burdens so 
onerous, and so unusual, as their own dignity and their own 
family, could scarcely be expected to do any thing so extra- 
ordinary as repair their own houses. But difficult as it is 
for the same individual to maintain the niaguificence of an 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 317 

English prelate and the economy of a prudent father of a 
familvj the Bishops, assisted by the alms of the government, 
appear to manage it. Sir John Newport stated in Parlia- 
ment, that three Bishops during the fifteen previous years 
had died, leaving $3,500,000 each to their families. How- 
little this looks like dispensing their salaries in charity. 
How poorly it accords with their weekly exhortations — '' to 
lay up treasures in heaven, where rust doth not corrupt, nor 
thieves break through and steal." 

It would be evincing an unbecoming disrespect for the 
illustrious example of their superiors, if sleek incumbents 
and sapient deans did not display the same grasping greedi- 
ness which characterizes the higherC dignitaries of the 
Church. The High Church principle is so happily illus- 
trated in the following extract and table, that I cannot 
forego the gratification of giving them. 

The frauds committed by deans and chapters have recently been 
shown, at least, to equal in flagraney, those of which the bishops stand 
convicted on the evidence adduced before the Ecclesiastical Commis- 
sion. The property bequeathed to cathedral churches was originally dis- 
tributed by the donor's will, in certain exact proportions, to the various 
officers of the cathedral, to grammar boys to be boarded and educated, 
and to other poor beneficiaries. This proportionate annual distribution 
was devised in perpetuity, and all deans and chapters to this day bind 
themselves individually by oaths of awful solemnity, faithfully to per- 
form the duties of their trust. Instead of keeping these oaths, the dean 
and prebendaries now divide vastly-augmented revenues intrusted to 
them chiefly among themselves, leaving their weaker and more depen- 
dent fellow-beneficiaries profited but slightly, and in many cases not 
at all, by the enormous increase of the property in which they have a 
joint interest. This shameless dishonesty will appear from the follow- 
in o- table, which shows the original as eompai*ed with the present sti- 
pend of various cathedral functionaries, in different dioceses. The ex- 
tension of the table to, at least, twelve of the richest cathedrals, would 
give a similar result in all — 



318 ENGLISH ITEMS. 






Canterbury. 






1542. 


1831 and 1849 




£ .s. (/, 


£ s. (I 


Dean .... 


300 


2,050 


Prebendaries, each . 


40 2 11 


1,010 


Minor Canons, each . 


10 


80 


Grammar boys, each 


4 


18 4 


Bedesmen, each . 


6 13 4 


6 13 4 



EOCHESTER. 



1542. 


1840. 


£ s. (I. 


£ s. d. 


100 


1,426 


20 


680 19 


10 


30 


2 13 4 


2 13 4 


6 13 4 


Nil 


Worcester. 




1542. 


1840. 


£ s. d. 


£ 5. d. 


183 6 8 


1,486 


20 


626 


10 


36 


2 13 4 


5 10 


5 


5 


Ely. 




1542. 


1840. 


£ s. d. 


£ s. a. 


120 7 6 


1,35Y 


20 


632 


10 


22 10 


3 6 8 


(7 at) 3 6 8 


6 13 4 


6 13 4 



Dean , 

Prebendaries, each 
Minor Canons, each 
Gi'ammar boys, each 
Bedesmen, each . 



Dean 

Prebendaries, each 
Minor Canons, each 
Grammar boys, each 
Bedesmen, each 



Dean .... 
Prebendaries, each . 
Minor Canons, each 
Grammar boys, (24 at) 
Bedesmen, each 



Such is a specimen of the unprincipled rapacity of this branch of 
the Anglican clergy, and of the corrupting tendency of our State-church 
system. It is melancholy to reflect, how many men have been hanged 
within the last forty years for less flagrant delinquencies ! 

Whenever the friends of freedom and reform had dared 
to assail the holy monster, its sordid worshippers have never 
failed to plead its antiquity, as its protection. But can age 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 319 

make abuses tolerable ? Can long endurance rob oppression 
of its sting ? This pious liorror in Churcbmen of disturbing 
existing forms, has no doubt preserved unaltered the pittance 
originally doled out to Grammar boys and Bedesmen, 
though it was not strong enough to retain the same exact- 
ness with regard to the salaries of the Deans themselves. 
If the poor boys, for whose benefit the charities were origi- 
nally established, are not to be allowed to receive more than 
their original stipend, the surplus revenues would have been 
better employed in alms to England's three millions of pau- 
pers, than in increasing the salaries of these lazy churchmen, 
who apparently have more belly than conscience. But it 
seems that these antiquated forms of the church are only in- 
violable, when they minister to the selfishness of its votaries. 
The church itself is only maintained as a convenient and re- 
spectable hiding-place, where churchmen may nestle in 
corruption. 

The delegation of political power to the priesthood has 
always produced, in every country where it has occurred, 
bigotry in the church and tyranny in the government. It 
leagues together two powerful accomplices for the oppression 
of the people. It is destructive to all civil and religious 
liberty. The clergy are denied by our government all par- 
ticipation in political power ; and wisely has it been done. 
There can be no liberty where there is not freedom of con- 
science. To restrain the free intercourse between man and 
man is tyranny. What shall we call the attempt to coerce 
a man's communion with his God ? A man's conscience is 
too sacred — religion is too holy to be subjected to the con- 
trol of human institutions. To declare by law the manner 
in which a man must approach in prayer the throne of his 
Maker, is sacrilege. It is exalting earthly things above 
divine. 

The unhallowed connection between Church and State, 



320 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

as unnatural as Pasiphae's amour with the bull, has pro 
duced in England a monstrosity, with all the hideousness, 
and more than the voracity of the Minotaur. What can be 
more hideous to a pious mind than making a trade of reli- 
gion'? What can be more revolting even to a worldling 
than the idea of serving God as a shopman serves his cus-. 
tomers, for a living? The church, not satisfied with the 
tithes of England, which are annually offered up like the 
seven chosen youths of Athens to appease the voracity of 
the Minotaur, extends her devouring appetites to poor fam- 
ished Ireland. She greedily gleans amidst the ruins that 
famine and misrule have made, the tear-stained means to 
support her bloated opulence. She wrings from misery re- 
luctant contributions, which she only needs to minister to 
her luxury. 

Why is not Scotland too made to contribute to the sup- 
port of this magnificent establishment ? Why is she not 
called upon to assist in filling the gaping coffers of the 
English church ? Rich and prosperous, she is much better 
able, it seems to me, to bear such exorbitant demands, than the 
land of suffering Erin. But no. The holy fathers of the church 
seem endued with discretion not inferior to their voracity. 
It is easy work, worthy of unwarlike churchmen, to despoil 
poor prostrate Ireland ; but Scotland has alike the will 
and the power to resist oppression. Her strength is her pro- 
tection. With Christian forbearance the Bishops 

" Trample on the worm, but pause e'er they wake 
The slumbering venom of the folded snake." 

In Ireland the natural order of things is reversed. The 
people exist for the benefit of the government, and not the 
government for the sake of the people. This unhappy coun- 
try has ever been regarded as a safe and convenient place 
to quarter needy court favorites, and useful creatures of the 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 321 

crown. Clergymen take benefices in Ireland as bankrupt 
noblemen make tours on the continent, to recruit their ex- 
hausted finances. Absenteeism is even more fashionable 
among them than the landlords of the country. The Earl 
of Bristol, Bishop of Derry, spent twenty years in Italy, and 
during that time received $1,200,000. 

There are in Ireland but half a million of Protestants, 
yet previous to the passage of the reform bill an establish- 
ment of twenty-two Bishops were sumptuously supported, 
although what all of them pretended to superintend one 
Bishop in England would do. It is true that the number 
of high dignitaries in Ireland is now reduced to two Arch- 
bishops and twelve Bishops ; but what enormous dispropor- 
tion between the extent of the church establishment, and the 
number of church members in the two countries ! What 
monstrous injustice ! 

The value of the ecclesiastical revenue of Ireland was, 
in 1834, over $7,000,000. There were 3,195 places, divided 
among 850 persons, giving to each an average of more than 
$8,000. Thus we have an example of the Established 
Church in Ireland, claiming, in order to minister to the 
religious comfort of one-fourteenth of the population, one- 
tenth of the entire produce of the soil for the support of 
eight millions of people, in addition to her own vast reve- 
nues. Yet England professes to wonder that the people are 
starving, and the country is depopulated. The attempt to 
force the Established Church on Ireland has brought misery 
on a brave nation. What change have centuries of oppres- 
sion effected in the religious opinions of the country ? Ire- 
land now presents the strange scene of tithe-fed clergymen 
without parishes, parishes without churches, and churches 
without people. Of her 2,394 parishes, 155 have no 
church, and not a single Protestant inhabitant, and there 
are 895 parishes with less than 50 Protestant inhabitants, 
14* 



322 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

including men, women and children. But tlie payment of 
the pastor is as compulsorily exacted in these parishes as in 
any, others. The following table presents a glimpse of the 
strange state of things in Ireland. 





Members of 


Tithe 


Parishes. 


the State Church. 


Composition. 


Kilkaltj 


13 


. £400 


Ballyhea . 


. 15 . 


. 400 


Templeracarigy . 


27 


498 


Ballyvourney 


. 30 . 


. 600 


Ardagh 


. 14 .V 


600 


Whitechurch . 


. 20 . 


. 784 


Mogeesha 


19 


809 


Clonfriest . 


. 35 . . 
173 


. 8&9 




£4,860 or $24,300 



That there is as much difference in the amount of duty as 
in the pay of the Catholic priesthood and the clergy of the 
Established Church, I beg leave to call attention to the fol- 
lowing facts. In the district of New Erin there arc 4,500 
Catholics, and 30 Protestants ; in Donnes Keath, there are 
5,700 Catholics, and 90 Protestants. But, in both these, as 
in Kilcummin and ToUamore, where there was not a single 
member of the Established Church, there were four or five 
clergymen, and but one priest. 

It is singular that in a nation professing to be so ner- 
vously proper as the English, among a people so nervously 
tenacious of every imagined right, the present system of ap- 
pointing clergymen should, for a day, be permitted to pre- 
vail. It is the boast of Englishmen that the accused in 
England enjo}?- the privilege of being tried by their peers ; 
in legal questions, touching the rights of property, every 
man is allowed to select his own advocate ; in Parliamen- 
tary and other elections, every voter can freely exercise the 
right of suffrage ; but in the question of salvation, the peo- 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 323 

pie liaye no voice at all. With regard to life, property and 
franchise, they have rights, and can maintain them ; but the 
privilege of selecting their own ministers of religion is de- 
nied this self-styled "freest nation upon earth." "What 
shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and 
lose his own soul ?" But the souls of the populace in Eng- 
land weigh but little in the scales against the rights of the 
aristocracy. Their church-livings are the most profitable 
portion of their personal possessions. The order must be 
sustained, though heaven itself be forfeited. For the most 
ordinary duty men are generally selected whose zeal and 
whose talents best fit them for its performance. And the 
reward for its execution should remain in the power of the 
employers, as a guarantee of good faith on the part of him 
who undertakes it. These are simple precepts, recognized 
in the least important of worldly transactions ; but in min- 
istering the holy oflices of religion, they are scornfully dis- 
regarded. Court favor, family interest, or the sordid dispo- 
sition of the owner of the living, regulates the appointment 
of every minister of the Established Church in England. 
The arrogant proprietor of a benefice presents it to him who 
fawns most, or pays highest, without the slightest regard to 
his qualifications. He may be ignorant, immoral, and, in 
every respect, repulsive to his congregation, but the laws 
are inexorable : he must not only preside at the desk of the 
church to which he has been so arbitrarily appointed, but he 
must be handsomely supported by its members. There is 
no power of appeal in the people. The unwelcome intruder 
must continue a life-long burden to any parish on which his 
wealthy patron has been pleased to impose him. Should such 
an unwarrantable interference with the pettiest bargains of 
the people be attempted by the government, it would be de- 
nounced in all parts of the kingdom, as a heinous ofi"ence 
against the liberties of the subject. But. as only religion, 



324 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

and not money, is involved in the outrages perpetrated by 
the owners of c-iurch-livings, they not only pass without cen- 
sure, but without comment. The relative value of salvation 
and lucre is reversed in Great Britain. Though the aris- 
tocracy boldly endanger the first, they have not the moral 
courage to give up the last. The patronage of church-liv- 
ings is a very profitable source of revenue. What consider- 
ations, then, earthly or divine, could induce its surrender ? 

The titles which subject church-livings to the same laws of 
sale and transfer as any other personal property are founded 
in superstition or corruption, and should not therefore be 
sustained. Kobber Barons, haunted on their death-beds by 
the fearful memories of a life of bloodshed and crime, had, 
in making rich bequests to the church, prayed that some 
favorite might be remembered in the appointment of parish 
priests. Or intriguing worldings had boldly bargained with 
unscrupulous monks for the rights of presentation to certain 
livings in the church, in exchange for land and money, which 
were far dearer to the priesthood, than the proper adminis- 
tration of religion to the people. The acquired privileges 
were handed from father to son till the Reformation, when 
this glaring abuse should have been earliest abolished. But 
the traffic was too much in accordance with the social prin- 
ciples of the people seriously to offend their religion. The 
church-livings were still considered projjerty^ but the titles 
were piously transferred to the supporters of the new form 
of religion, and are still acknowledged to the shame of the 
Established Church of England. The English, with their 
idolatrous respect for birth, could not be expected to interfere 
even with abuses made sacred by so holy an origin. 

The church livings continue therefore a fruitful source of 
corruption in the government, and moral debasement in the 
people. Of the benefices of England 1301 are assigned to 
the Bishops, as if purposely to tempt them to make pluralists 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 325 

and non-residents of their relations and favorites, to the great 
scandal of that church of whose piety and purity they are 
the responsible representatives: 1048 of them belong to 
the crown, to be judiciously divided among the properest 
tools of despotism, who are required to propound doctrines 
of abject submission and slavish compliance, instead of 
making the pulpit, as it was during our own glorious revo- 
lution, the fountain of libBrty as well as religion. The 
6,619 livings owned by private individuals are the cause of 
degradation to their owners, and debasement to the people. 
The conscience of their proprietors is seared, and their hearts 
hardened in this fearful traffic of human souls, whilst the 
moral character of the nation is debased by the appointment 
of unworthy persons as clergymen, whose example and pre- 
cepts are to direct their religious aspirations. To complete 
the list of benefices, 982 belong to Deans and Chapters, and 
743 to the Universities. As an example of the manner in 
which they are divided : the Archbishop of Canterbury alone 
is patron of 149 livings. The Duke of Beaufort has 26, and 
the Duke of Devonshire 31 shares in these holy stocks, 
whilst His Grace of Bedford possesses 32, probably in con- 
sideration of his being descended from the virtuoits Duke of 
Bedford to whom Junius addressed his famous letter. 

Before it is decided by the parents of a boy whether he 
shall become a lawyer, a physician, an officer in the army, or 
a member of some useful mechanical trade, it is always de- 
termined whether he is qualified for the position. But the 
dunce of the family, in England is too often made a minister 
merely because his stupidity unfits him for every thing else, 
and because his family happens to possess the necessary in- 
fluence to procure for him this easy mode of making a com- 
fortable living. Piety is the first requisite in a clergyman, 
but even when accompanied with the most brilliant talents 
it has but little chance of preferment in the Established 



326 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Church of England unless backed by fortune and friends. 
Genius is altogether unnecessary, and piety is not expected 
in her ministers. Not the religious instruction of the people 
but the pockets of the owners are the primary object of the 
presentations to church-livings. 

But the incompetency of the clergy which must inevita- 
bly result from this faulty mode of presentation, serious as 
it is, is not the most monstrous of the abuses to which the 
system is subject. If those who have livings in their gift 
would confine themselves to the appointment of incompetent 
relations and dependants, the church might escape without 
more serious hurt, than having its sacred offices ministered 
by silly but inoffensive people. But the venal instincts of 
the nation prompt the lucky proprietors of these church-liv- 
ings shamelessly to dispose of them to the highest bidder. 
Who can wonder that the church is disgraced by improper 
persons as its ministers 1 Though Englishmen might deal 
in all else; though they might sell country, honor and 
friendS; it seems to me that even their hardened hearts 
ought to be appalled by the thought of making a traffic of 
religion. They profess to despise those engaged in ordinary 
commerce, but their delicate natures are not at all shocked 
by this sacrilegious commerce in the souls of men. The 
value of the article dealt in probably elevates it in their es- 
timation above the sordid nature of other branches of trade. 
A banker is more respected than a merchant in England ; 
and I suppose on the same principle a dealer in salvation is 
deemed a much more honorable sort of personage than a 
dealer in codfish. How can the people reverence religion 
with the pious adoration becoming in Christians, when they 
see its holy offices bartered for, as any other kind of mer- 
chandise ? With a vicious worldling as their minister is it 
strange that they should falter in their respect for the 
church? When thov ?iec oy^-rv where the forms, but seek 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 327 

in vain for the spirit of religion, is it not natural that they 
should learn to think that their duty to heaven was accom- 
plished by going to church 1 Is it surprising that with them 
piety should mean a gilded prayer-book, and well-cushioned 
pew ? that religion should consist in kneeling, and charity 
in loud-uttered responses? Is it remarkable that they 
should serve Grod by subscribing for a finer church than 
their neighbors, and think they obey all the admonitions of 
heaven in taking the sacrament from a costly service of sil- 
ver plate ? 

But when once ordained the ministers of the Established 
Church of England are fixtures for life. Blackwood's Mag- 
azine, the usual advocate of Tory and High Church princi- 
ples, has candidly confessed that " a clergyman may be des- 
titute of religious feeling ; he may be grossly immoral ; he 
may discharge his duties in the most incompetent manner 
and lose his flock ; he may almost do any thing short of 
legal crime, and still he will neither forfeit his living nor 
draw upon himself any punishment." 

We are assured that every precaution has been taken to 
suppress the scandalous sale of church-livings. But statutes 
have been multiplied and solemn oaths have been devised to 
very little purpose. It requires a cunning contrivance to 
restrain the avarice of an Englishman. Upon his institu- 
tion a clergyman is compelled to swear that " he gave not 
the least consideration whatever either himself, directly or 
indirectly, nor any person for him with his privity, knowledge 
or consent." But oaths are not apt to be binding among a 
people where religion itself is so little respected. The fact 
of a man's being willing to purchase a living when he must 
do so in violation of so serious an oath, should be taken as 
convincing evidence of his being unworthy of the place. 
But what is his unworthiness to the owner of the benefice, 
if he pays well for it ? It is his anxiety to realize the 



328 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

greatest amount of profit by the transaction, and one man's 
money is as good as another's. 

It frequently happens that all decency in the arrange- 
ment is forgotten, and both seller and buyer are present at 
the bargain But a conscientious gentleman, whose mind, 
more timid, is still haunted by the spectres of the outward 
forms of propriety, will square accounts with his conscience 
by getting a friend to buy the living and present it to him. 
His own money makes the purchase, but he does not buy 
the benefice. What a silly contrivance to impose on sensi- 
ble people ! Yet it is sufficient to protect the offender from 
the rigors of the law. He pockets the fruits of his perjury 
but whispers to remorse, " Back — back, vile demon ! thou 
canst not say that I did it." Under a system so vicious, 
men, the most depraved in their tastes and debauched in 
their habits, may become ministers of God's holy word. 
They have only to pay the price and swear that they did not 
pay it. And when we remember how sure, how profitable, 
and how respectable an investment a living in the church 
is, it is not at all remarkable that such disreputable mem- 
bers of society should be eager to become purchasers. It 
seems to me that prayers uttered by their vile breath could 
not ascend to heaven, but would hang over their congrega- 
tions like a cloud between them and the glory of their 
Maker. This is not one of the Legendary abuses of the 
High Church system that modern progress and reform have 
long since corrected. This is not one of those crying sins 
which only exist now in memories of brawling dissenters and 
discontented radicals. It is an affair of every-day occur- 
rence. Church-livings are as regularly advertised for sale 
in the public prints with a florid parade of their advantages, 
as we would advertise farms with their convenient appurte- 
nances. In support of what I declare, I give the following 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 329 

extract from the London Times made during my recent 
visit to England. 

Traffic in Advowsoxs. — We have received the following letter on 
thi3 subject from "S. G. 0." (the Rev. Mr. Osborn):— 

Sir — ^your paper of August 5, contains an advertisement headed 
"Next Presentation to a valuable Living in Dorsetshire," "a most high- 
ly desirable living," situation " salubrious," ** annual value upwards of 
£700 per annum, with a capital residence, garden and pleasure-grounds 
most tastefully laid out," " population 1000" present incumbent 80 years 
of age." I must add to the above description, there are two churches, 
two dissenting places of worship, two resident Roman Catholic priests, 
and a very large nunnery. You have now before you the parish of 
Spetisbury-cum-Charlton. To any one with money to invest in a cure 
of souls, can a more tempting speculation be offered ? By the bye, the 
advertisement adds, " the rent-charge is easily collected." I must, how- 
ever, protest against the course which has been pursued to obtain 
grounds for this amount of temptation — L e., the putting in, a very 
short time since, the old man of 80, who for many years past, on his 
own petition to the bishop, was declared incapable of performing duty, 
had a dispensation from residence on his then living, and was not insti- 
tuted to this living with the least expectation that he would reside on 
it. The patron, wise in his generation, has done the best the law al- 
lows him to do to make the article suddenly thrown on his hands of 
the utmost salable value ; the Church, to her shame, has per fas aut 
nefas become a party consenting to the transaction. We have been 
lately cited with all due solemnity to the solemn (?) work of sending 
proctors to Convocation. I was not able to attend ; had I done so — 
had I proposed the Rev. Mr. Baskett, the octogenarian incumbent of 
Spetisbury-cum-Charlton, on the grounds that he had been just institut- 
ed by my diocesan to one of the most important cures in the diocese, 
and therefore I had a right to presume had not only an experience 
from his age few possess, but also this recent public testimonial to liis 
worth as a parochial minister — would any one member of that solemn 
conclave have ventured on the indecency of saying, " Sir, Mr. B, was 
appointed to this important cure not for his capacity, but being incapa- 
ble ; he was not chosen because his age gave him experience, but be- 
cause 80 years of age in an advertisement, as the age of the present in- 
cumbent, makes the living more valuable in the market ; he was too in- 



830 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

firm to reside on his last living — he has no intention of residing on this 
one." From the presiding archdeacon to the apparitor in waiting the 
idea would have been scouted, and yet — so it is. 

From the following advertisment of a cliurch-living it 
might be reasonably supposed that there was an occasional 
Nimrod among the holy fathers of the church. 

To be sold, the next presentation to a vicarage, in one of the mid- 
land counties, and in the immediate neighborhood of one or two of 
the first pacJcs of fox-hounds in the kingdom. The present annual in- 
come about £580, subject to curate's salary. The incumbent in his 
GOth year. 

Yet the pious gentlemen for whose avarice these adver- 
tisements are intended as a bait, are asked at their ordina- 
tion, " whether they feel themselves moved by the Holy 
Grhost to take upon them the sacred office of the-ministry ?" 
Their answers are of course in the affirmative. But who 
can doubt that the emoluments of the living, and not the 
" Holy Ghost," had moved the zealous candidate for church- 
preferment ? It would be sacrilege to treat the more serious 
concerns of human life with such solemn mockery, but the 
language has no term properly to describe the profanity of 
subjecting religion to such impious practices. 

The Bishops are surrounded by a swarm of Deans, Arch- 
deacons, Prebendaries, Chancellors, Commissaries, Surro- 
gates, Registrars, Proctors, Apparitors, &c. &c., to the end 
of a long list, the only apparent object of whose mainte- 
nance at an enormous annual expense is to increase the pomp, 
and expose the follies of the Established Church. Cranmer 
has justly described them as '' good vianders too much given 
to belly cheer." The Deans and Chapters nominally elect 
the Bishops. This is the most miserable of all bad farces. 
The Bishops are really appointed by the crown, and the 
Deans and Chapters hurry through a form of forced ratifica- 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 831 

tion. For this important duty they enjoy an income of 
about $2,500,000. But useless as these crowds of sinecures 
appear, it is evident to the close observer that their num- 
bers, the absence of all duty, and the large salaries, make them 
eagerly sought by the younger sons and poor relations of 
nobles ; they are essential to the prime object of government, 
the preservation of the order of nobility. They materially 
increase the number of lazy situations, with fat wages, adapt- 
ed to the tastes and indolence of the younger sprigs of nobi- 
lity who are habitually quartered on the people. 

The Established Church is a double curse to the people 
of England. It assails their freedom and interferes with 
their religious instruction. The vast revenues of the church 
are monopolized by the Bishops, dignitaries, and aristocratic 
pluralists, whilst the curates, the real ministers to the reli- 
gious wants of the people, are starving upon the miserable 
pittances doled out to them by their rich patrons. At a par- 
ticular epoch in the history of the church there was one indi- 
vidual who united in his own person eleven livings. But 
here is a list of the pluralists. 

Number of • Livings held 

Individuals. by each. 

1 11 

1 8 

5 n 

12 6 

64 5 

209 4 

56*7 3 

2027 2 

Yet it was a violation alike of law and the canons of the 
church that any minister should hold more than 07ie living. 
The outrage would be less flagrant if this " simony" was 
tolerated in order to relieve the holders of the poorer livings 



332 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

from almost penury by conferring several of them on one 
minister. But those places which are most greedily pounced 
upon by the aristocratic pluralists and non-residents are the 
richest benefices in the church, some of them being worth forty 
or fifty thousand dollars a year. Every pluralist must be a 
non-resident in some of his benefices,' and the majority of 
them enjoy the profits of several livings without residing in 
any of them. Indeed it is their intention to accumulate the 
incomes of as many valuable livings as will enable them to 
leave their parishes and dash and dissipate in the fashionable 
circles of the metropolis. The nation are thus not only bur- 
dened with their enormous salaries, but are by them deprived 
of the advantages they might enjoy from their ministers not 
being rich enough to live much abroad. As an evidence that 
the English sense of right is not wholly dead with regard to the 
monstrous abuses of the church, I append the following ex- 
tracts from the comments of the Times of August last on Mr. 
Robert Moore, who in his own person united the rich livings 
ofHunton, Latchington, Eynesford, and Hollingsbourne, be- 
sides a cathedral stall, and the principal registrarship of 
Doctors Commons. 

A great deal, as might have been expected, has been written and 
said of the Rev. Robert Moore and his emoluments. The discovery or 
rather the public announcement, that in the middle of this 19th century 
there still existed an individual possessing in priyate fee a sinecure of- 
fice worth 9,000^. a year, a rectory worth 1000^., a second rectory worth 
another 1000/., a third producing 600/., a fourth 150/., and a cathedral 
stall of the most desirable fertility to boot, was an incident well calcu- 
lated to arrest the attention of the public. Such visions are monsters 
of the old moral woj-ld, and are gazed upon like the gigantic fossils of a 
past creation. Mr. Moore, however, is pained at his own attractions, 
and feels hurt, as he expressed to ourselves, at the reflection that he 
"should have been held up more than others similarly circumstanced 
to public odium, and made the subject of misrepresentation and exag- 
geration," Now, though our first considerations are due to the inter 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 333 

ests of the community at large, we should but ill discharge our office if 
we rendered less than justice to any individual. Once more, therefore, 
with a confident expectation that we shall carry with us the opinions 
of the public, and with some hopes of extorting the assent even of Mr. 
Moore himself, we submit his case to a fair and com^jrehensive review. 

The Times appears not so much surprised by the existence 
of so outrageous an abuse, as by its "public announcement." 
That the case should have been brought before the public 
does seem strange indeed, when so much pains is ordinarily 
taken to conceal the peculations of Church and State. 

When the fact is notorious that the poor clergy and the 
curates perform all the clerical labors of the Established 
Church, what object is attained by supporting these wealthy 
pluralists who do no duty at all, unless it is to oppress the 
people and sustain the fictitious superiority of the aristocra- 
cy ? This, however, is one of the worthy aims of the British 
government. If every congregation were permitted to select 
from free choice its own minister and compensate him with a 
reasonable salary, such clergymen only would officiate whose 
piety, whose talents, and the correctness of whose lives emi- 
nently fitted them for so responsible a position. Worldly and 
worthless characters would be no longer tempted by excessive 
pay to enter upon duties so holy and so little congenial to their 
dispositions. The people would be freed from the present 
crushing weight of the Church, and have their religious cere- 
monies performed by sincere and zealous Christians. Plu- 
ralists and non-residents would be unknown in the Church, 
for pious and not sordid considerations would then influence 
men to take holy orders. The people would be improved by 
the unaffected devotion of their pastors, instead of being cor- 
rupted by seeing how little regard for heaven they have, 
who have been called to preach it. 

The High Church system is unjust and oppressive to its 
own members, but is cruel in the extreme to unfortunate dis- 



334 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

senters. It impoverishes them by compelling them to con- 
tribute to its own support in addition to sustaining their own 
clergymen ; and it outrages the pious feelings of conscien- 
tious Christians by forcing them to' contribute to the main- 
tenance of a form of religion which their hearts condemn as 
wrong. The dissenters of England form no inconsiderable 
remnant of the population whose voice is naturally lost 
amidst the joyful songs of the large majority. The govern- 
ment discourages every attempt to ascertain their true 
strength and respectability, and affects to regard and treat 
them as an obscure faction, the smallness of whose numbers 
renders them unworthy of being listened to when they com- 
plain. But those who have had an opportunity of judging 
them " by their works" must feel convinced, that if they are 
not more numerous they are much more active than the 
clergy and members of the Established Church. But take 
the county of Lancashire, from which returns have been 
made. It was found that there were 590 dissenting churches 
and 255,411 sectarians. There were 281 places of worship 
according to the Established Church, and the entire pojDula- 
tion of the county was 1,052,859 persons. Those who were 
numbered among the sectarians must of course have been 
active members of some congregation, whilst the census of 
the country included people of all ages and conditions ; this 
could not therefore present a fair proportion between the 
churches. But a reasonable calculation would enable us to 
conclude, that under this iniquitous system nearly one-half 
of the people were taxed to build churches they never 
entered, and to support ministers they never heard. The 
number too of dissenters is daily increasing. Zeal and sin- 
cerity must eventually overcome formal hypocris3^ But 
even, when the religious opinions of the nation are whollj^ 
reformed, the wealth and selfishness of the stubborn aristoc- 



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 33.5 

racy will still remain an insurmountable barrier to reforma- 
tion in church government. 

I have attempted to describe the results from the sordid 
system of sale, prevailing among the pious proprietors of 
church-livings. I shall give but one example of the abuses 
of which favoritism, in the presentation to livings, is capa- 
ble. It was the original intention of Cranmer, in his code. 
which the death of Edward VI. prevented from passing into 
a law, that bastards should " not be admitted to orders, or 
livings as a consequence, unless they had eminent qualities." 
" But the bastards of patrons wove,' on no account^ to be in- 
ducted into preferments, if presented to them by their pre- 
sumed parents." Had this provision taken effect, it would 
have been somewhat unfortunate for the Rev. Lord Augus- 
tus Fitzclarence, the natural son of William IV. by Mrs. 
Jordan, who has, since 1829, been the rector of Maple- 
duram, and is the private chaplain of Her Majesty Queen 
Victoria. His Reverend Lordship happily illustrates, in his 
own preferment, the rather loose code of morals acknow- 
ledged by the Church, as his only possible claim upon her 
munificence rests on the fact of his parents having outraged 
her most sacred rite. But the absurd superstition that 
"the king can do no wrong" maybe incorporated in the 
religion, as well as the constitution of England, for aught I 
know ; and there may be no particular indecency in reward- 
ing the profligate bastard of a profligate king with the holy 
office of minister of God's word. Those who will call to 
mind the chaste vindictiveness with which Queen Victoria 
prosecuted the Lady Flora Hastings affair, must be some- 
what surprised at the intimate spiritual relations which exist 
between Her Majesty and this reverend individual, merely 
because he chances to be the result of a caprice of a royal 
personage for an actress. But one might infer that Her 
Majesty entertained quite an affection for her accidental 



336 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

relations, as another of the Fitzclarences enjoys the honor 
of commanding the royal yacht. 

But the legion of church abuses, which now make the 
wicked scoff and the pious grieve, must continue to curse 
Great Britain, whilst money is regarded as the chief bless- 
ing by the nation. Religion must always suffer under sad 
disadvantages, when compelled to contend with avarice in 
the heart of an Englishman, Whilst the aristocracy have 
benefices to sell, and younger sons to provide for, the church 
will be retained as a cloak for their dishonorable practices. 



HERALDRY. 337 



CHAPTER XIL 

HERALDRY. 

THE mysterious mummery of Heraldry is one of those 
farcical superstitions, still tenderly cherished by the 
British aristocracy. The whole power of the English gov- 
ernment is exerted to make this venerable absurdity re- 
spectable. A mighty nation unites in pronouncing its pedantic 
nonsense the wisdom of an oracle. 

A college of thirteen persons is maintained, at the ex- 
pense of the government, to practise this sacred hocus-pocus 
for the satisfaction of its subjects. Each member of this 
learned institution must graduate in gibberish, and a man 
must possess sheepskin authority for indulging in Heraldic 
slang. The highest importance is attached to the edicts of 
the Heralds. Their simplest fiat becomes supreme law. No 
court of justice can change, nor can the sovereign himself 
modify their decisions. All classes look up to them with 
equal veneration. The low-born regard them with awe, for 
it is from their college that must issue every testimonial of 
gentility acknowledged in the kingdom. And they wield 
over the nobility, as keepers of their pedigrees, that sort of 
influence which a father confessor obtains over a man, in 
becoming keeper of his conscience. 

The college has retained, with its defunct technicalities 
and outlandish phrases, something of the barbaric magnifi- 
cence of chivalry. The three kings-at-arms, with their four 
15 



338 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

Heralds and six Pursuivants, still play a conspicuous part 
in all court ceremonies and state shows. Arrayed in the 
gorgeous costumes of their order, stiff with gold lace, and 
bedizened by the grotesque symbols of their science, they 
assume the stately strut, as well as the grandiloquent lan- 
guage, of the middle ages. And yet the multitude seem to 
discover nothing ludicrous about this masquerade of exploded 
fashions, in which the Heralds must perform the solemn 
farce allotted to them. 

They profess to cling with fond tenacity to Heraldry, 
as a lingering remnant of chivalry. I delight in the days 
of love and lances ; I love to dwell on the heroism and 
high-toned honor of the devoted knights. Embalmed in all 
the poetry of its nature, the tales of chivalry have always 
exercised over me a witching fascination, that no other por- 
tion of history possessed. The souls that could melt to 
tenderness in silent adoration of a ribbon, or a glove, and 
yet boldly break lances in the name of the fair givers of 
these holy relics, have always commanded my highest admi- 
ration. Devotion to a woman is the only feeling which does 
not become absurd when indulged to excess. But chivalry 
only lives when surrounded by the atmosphere of fancy. 
As the beauteous moth, which has existed for ages imbedded 
in amber, sickens and dies when its sparkling prison is 
broken, so the romantic deeds of chivalry become ridicu- 
lous when removed from the bright realms of imagination. 

What a storm of derision would assail any modern Don 
Quixote, who would insert his head in an iron kettle, and 
wander about the country with sixty or a hundred pounds 
of pot-metal on his back, merely for the fun of bloody noses 
and broken heads. In these modern days of utilitarian doc- 
trines, a broken head, in whatever cause it may have been 
acquired, is considered any thing but ornamental. And a 
dinner-pot is believed to bo a iiiuoh move appropriate recep- 



HERALDRY. 339 

tacle of a Westphalia ham, than the cracked pate of its ro- 
mantic owner. A man would justly be deemed a fool to 
risk his neck for a smile of his lady-love, in the noise, dust 
and discomfort of a tournament, when he might convince 
her of his unshaken devotion with so much less trouble. A 
lover will quaff several glasses of champagne to the health 
of his mistress, who has decorated his button-hole with the 
satin ribbon from her shoe, but he could scarcely be ex" 
pected by the exacting damsel herself to shed a single drop 
of his blood, in appreciation of the honor. Why then, when 
the most beautiful portions of this romantic code appear so 
absurd when applied to modern actions, should a barbarous 
folly connected with it be retained, which chivalry itself only 
tolerated because it was necessary ? For then the mailed 
hands of the thick-skulled Barons were much more cunning 
in the use of a lance than a pen, and their signet-rings, 
adorned with their peculiar coat of arms, were indispensable 
in signing important documents and holding secret commun- 
ion with distant friends. But thanks to the enterprising 
efforts of the Dominie Samsons of England, the Nobility 
can now indite a scrawl, recognizable in the courts of law 
as their legal signatures, and raging bears and rampant lions 
have ceased to be necessary to represent the sign-manual of 
these respectable gentlemen. 

Tilting is both dangerous and laborious. Platonic at- 
tachments have been found, upon experiment, a bore ; and 
the English gentry have somethiug else to do, besides wan- 
der about the country seeking whom they may devour. The 
romantic portion of Knight-errantry has been unanimously 
voted a nuisance, but Heraldry is retained to exalt the na- 
tion's vanity at the expense of its common sense. The aristoc- 
rac}^ require the College of Heralds to assay the old nobility 
before declaring its worth, and by stamping the new, to give it 
currency. Although they themselves must feel that the coin 



340 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

is spurious, yet so long as the whole nation continue weak 
enough to receive it as genuine, 'they will, from feelings of 
self-interest, do all in their power to promote its circulation. 

The fact of the Heralds' College being '^ incorporated 
and invested with many privileges and immunities," by the 
third Richard, forms a somewhat remarkable coincidence 
with the arbitrary exercise of authority by that institution. 
But though founded and professedly sustained to preserve 
intact the precious superiority of noble blood, over all other 
less pure sources ; although its chief duty is to treasure those 
noble and generous qualities in which the nobility are said 
to excel, yet it happens, strangely enough, to furnish the 
most indubitable evidence of the omnipotence of money in 
Great Britain. 

With regard to all '• scutcheons of honor or pretence," 
the Heralds are absolute. They provide appropriate gen- 
ealogies for newly created peers. They decide, without 
appeal, who is genteel. They furnish foi' a compensation 
ancestors and coats of arms to rich pai'venues^ whose fami- 
lies have hitherto been unfortunately innocent of such ex- 
pensive appendages. In reference to all these matters no 
man dares question their decisions. " But the evidence of 
Heralds to support pedigrees is not received in courts of 
justice." Thus we see this sordid nation unhesitatingly 
trusting their noble titles, and what ought to be dearer than 
all titles of distinction, their honor, to the keeping of these 
bombastic numskulls, but when their fiats happen to involve 
something more substantial than the confirmation of a new 
title, or the arrangement of an imaginary line of ancestors, 
they are altogether disregarded. Their evidence is not re- 
ceived in courts of justice. The nobility deem the Heralds 
good enough guardians of titles, but their Lordships prefer 
taking care of their purses themselves. The shallowest re- 
searches of the College can legally enrich a man in all sorts 



HERALDRY. 341 

of ancestral glory, but their most labored efforts, in estab- 
lishing his descent, cannot confer upon him an acre of land. 
Its pedantic certificate may give or take away gentility, but 
its most solemn oath in a court of justice cannot interfere 
with the sacred inviolability of cash. This is something 
too precious to be tampered with by such empirics as the 
Heralds. An Englishman esteems his honor of so little 
value himself, that he is not at all apprehensive of being 
robbed of it by a neighbor. It may therefore be safely 
intrusted to a Herald. But money is of so delicate, so 
evanescent a nature, is so highly prized and eagerly sought 
for, that it is believed dangerous to confide it to such unscru- 
pulous guardians as the College of Heralds. When ques- 
tions of money are agitated, all the learning and experience 
of the most learned professors of the law are called in, 
though the Heraldic College is thought adequate to deter- 
mining the doubtful quality of a man's blood. Perhaps the 
nation are right for being a little skittish of the most vene- 
rable college. The initiated are too familiar with the ready 
means of procuring for wealthy clients Heraldic evidence 
of, I care not what, willingly to confide to their decision so 
important a portion of themselves as their purses. 

It is well known that any man is entitled to the Heraldic 
distinction of a coat of arms who can afford to live without 
occupation and to pay liberally for the honor. The king at 
arms may at any time create a gentleman by granting a crest. 
Indeed the Heralds' College may be described as a whole- 
sale manufactory of gentlemen. Masses as incongruous as 
the contents of a chiffonier'' s rag-basket at Paris, may be 
thrown into the extraordinary Heraldic machine, and yet 
nothing but gentlemen are turned out, just as paper is pro- 
duced from all sorts of rags. Gold is the principal ingre- 
dient used in this magical process. It is found to be an 
acid sufficiently powerful to reduce materials however rude 



342 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

and vulgar to the proper consistency for the manufacture of 
gentlemen. But unfortunately for the success of the makers 
the genuine article is so readily counterfeited that they are 
compelled to pin a label, in the shape of a coat of arms, on 
each gentleman's back, as the maker's name is pasted on a 
vial of Jule's hair tonic, to prevent impositions on the un- 
suspecting public. 

If there be any thing really contaminating about indus- 
trial pursuits, it is worse than folly to pretend that the 
Queen, assisted by her Heralds, can remove the pollution. 
If there be any thing disreputable about the manufacture of 
soap, or the brewing of beer, what must we think of the 
understandings of people who profess to believe that the 
Queen, by pronouncing a few words of Heraldic jargon, and 
touching a shoulder with a sword, can miraculously purify 
blood which has been for centuries thickened by soft soap, 
or cleanse veins that have been for ages muddied by stale 
beer ? The candidate for gentility, after passing through 
the hands of the Queen, is subjected to the legerdemain of 
the chief Herald, who gabbles some mysterious incantation, 
and, presto^ the impure sources of his blood are magically 
made worthy to mingle with the Helicon streams of the 
aristocracy. Previous to this juggling lustration, the gen- 
tlemen of England would have felt contaminated by any 
association, however formal, with the vulgar tradesman ; but 
the instant he has his card of variegated hieroglyphics hung 
about his neck by the Heralds, he is deemed no longer an 
improper companion for the aristocracy. If our transmuted 
brewer be ambitious of ancestral honors, he can be readily 
provided by the Heraldic College with a line of doughty fore- 
fathers, whose extent shall be warranted to bear a mathe- 
matical proportion to the length of his purse. If he is un- 
fortunately troubled with some not very euphonic appella- 
tion, a sufficient outlay in the same quarter will readily re- 



HERALDRY. 343 

lieve him of the incumbrance. Any name can he metamor- 
phosed to suit any taste, whether it inclines to the heroic 
or the sentimental. Hodges, for instance, by an ingenious 
transposition and alteration of letters by the Heralds, may 
be changed into Hengistand Horsa ;' and the various corrup- 
tions by which the originally heroic name has degenerated 
into plebeian Hodges will be so minutely traced, and satis- 
factorily established, that no reasonable man can longer en- 
tertain a doubt that our plain Hodges is a veritable descend- 
ant from one of the northern demigods. 

It is strange that the nation should continue to hearken 
to the senseless prate of the Heralds, when they are aware 
how easily wealth may procure its advantages. Vast reve- 
nues, judiciously invested, may not only ennoble their pos- 
sessor, but procure for him, if desirable, new name, ancestors 
and position. The Heraldic College is certainly an ines- 
timable blessing to the upstart wealth of Great Britain, 
since, by its alchemy, the sordid gains of a vulgar tradesman 
can be transformed into ample possessions of a proud noble. 
But, in providing an aspirant with pedigree and coat of arms, 
all metaphorical allusions even to the past pursuits of the 
new-made gentleman are studiously avoided. This is an 
egregious fault. The arms of the fresh aristocrat should 
possess some allegorical connection at least with his manner 
of acquiring money enough to purchase his distinction. 

For an enriched and lately ennobled soapmaker, for in- 
stance, I would beg to suggest something like the following 
as an appropriate coat of arms : Farty jper nehuU or and 
vert. In the sinister base a huge caldron, gules and azure. 
At the honor pointy an ass rampant-regardant., attired with 
bouquet and ribbons of azure. In \kiQ dexter base., a small 
patch of trefoil^ having in its midst five peacocks in full 
pride. There's a touch of Heraldry for you ! Looks know- 
ing, does it not % But why display my treasured lore in 



344 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

this ancient and profound science, when nine-tenths of my 
democratic readers could not understand me if they would, 
and the other tenth wouldn't if they could ; and yet I feel 
as much tickled by my self-concocted coat of arms as a child 
with a new drum, and, like the noisy urchin who drums 
everybody out of the house to convince them of the reality 
of the possession, I am going to incur the danger of being 
very absurd in order to show the genuineness of my pet 
patent in Heraldry. I know it is very stupid to explain a 
joke, and extremely pedantic to make a great display of 
knowing a little ; but, as I am temporarily discoursing of 
asses and Englishmen, think I am excusable for indulging 
in a little folly and considerable ostentation. So ye learned 
and uninitiated, have at ye all : here goes. When we 
Heralds speak of party ^^er nehule or and vert^ we intend to 
convey the idea of the field of the escutcheon being divided 
into two parts, by a wavy, irregular sort of line ; one side 
is colored, or gold ; the other vert^ or green. The gold al- 
ludes to the riches of the new-made knight, and the green 
to the refreshing verdancy of every thing aristocratic. The 
sinister base is the left-hand corner of the shield ; and the 
mammoth caldron, which occupies the identical corner of 
our coat of arms, is intended vaguely to intimate the origin 
of our ennobled soapmaker. Gules and azure mean red 
and blue, the colors the big kettle was painted, indicative 
of the fancy tendency of the manufacturer's notions as he 
grew rich. The honor 2^oint is a position in the upper 
portion of the dividing line. The ass rampant-regardant^ 
is an ass mounted on his hind legs and complacently look- 
ing back at his tail, which appendage, in the case of our 
animal, is appropriately decorated with bouquet and blue 
ribbons, although somewhat singed and drooping on account 
of the recent exodus from the soap-boiler. Of course this 
principal figure on our escutcheon allegorically represents 



HERALDRY. 345 

the plump citizen himself. The zig-zag lines above alluded 
to form the ladder by which the lucky ass has climbed from 
his humble beginning, through the medium of his wealth, 
to his present exalted position. From this happy half-way 
place, this highest point in the hedge, which excludes him 
from the Elysian fields of his aristocratic neighbors on the 
other side, he exultingly snuffs his coming triumphs, and 
brays an indignant adieu to all recollections of the past. It 
is scarcely necessary to explain that the patch of trefoil is 
nothing more than our common clover, and that the five 
peacocks in full pride are the five orders of nobility puffed 
up to the utmost extent of pomposity. In short, this dexter 
portion of our escutcheon is intended to intimate that our 
supremely happy ass, being let down from his dizzy eleva- 
tion, will soon roll in clover with his noble betters. 

The enormous profits of soap-making render it a favorite 
road to the peerage. Whether the English are the cleanest 
or the dirtiest people in the world does not appear from 
history, but certain it is that the consumption of soap in 
that country has been very extraordinary since its being first 
made in Bristol in 1524. Its lucrative advantages have 
tempted kings to become monopolists in this branch of 
trade, and many a greasy manufacturer has snugly floated 
down the sluggish but certain stream of soft soap into an 
aristocratic harbor. Indeed there is no one person or class 
to whom the nobility are so much indebted for increase as 
the soap-makers, if we except Charles II. and the brewers. 
Had the city fathers congratulated the merry monarch on 
being the father of the nobility, instead of the people, Ro- 
chester's reply would have been as true as it was witty, 
when he said there was no doubt of his being the father of 
a good many of them. For five of the twenty-two Dukes of 
England owe their titles to being direct descendants of the 
illegitimate children of Charles II. by his mistresses. But 



346 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

the soap-makers and brewers are the compounders of the 
great staple commodities of consumption in Great Britain, 
and therefore surpass even Charles himself in the number of 
their additions to the peerage. 

It is with the sincerest regret that I see a growing dis- 
position in my countrymen to rig themselves out in this 
cast-off tinsel finery in which the Heralds of England are 
authorized to array Englishmen. It is with the deepest 
mortification that I remember how eager Mr. Smith and Mr. 
Jones are on arriving in England to rush to some antiquarian 
bookstore, and, searching through the ponderous folios of 
Heraldry for the numerous families of Smiths and Joneses, 
to select that coat of arms which they think will look best 
on a carriage door, and adopt it as their own. I do not 
mean to blame them for consulting the becoming in their 
selections, more especially as they have about as much right 
to one crest as another. I am forced to confess that to see 
an honest Republican tricked out in the Heraldic motley, 
that aristocratic fools of Great Britain cut their antics in, is 
to me eminently ridiculous and disgusting. I could join, 
with heart and soul, the English press in lashing to thread- 
bare confusion the absurdity of this harlequin masquerade. 
It evinces a weakness of character unworthy of American 
manhood. 

Heraldry is absurd even in England ; but still it is a 
legalized absurdity. They have a formula of folly, and have 
reduced nonsense to a science. The edicts of the Heralds' 
College are as solemn and as serious as any other legal pro- 
ceedings, and their decisions are as binding as those of the 
courts of law. But here we have no such mummery. Coats 
of arms are not legally established, and there is no institu- 
tion to give them validity. Every Smith and every Jones 
can select the style of arms most suited to their fancy from 
the numerous families of their names in England. The 



HERALDRY. 347 

jackdaw in his borrowed plumes wotild be imposing €Gi1i- 
pared with Smith strutting in those he has stolen. Where 
is the legal record in this country to determine which branch 
of the Smiths he is descended from ? Ev«n though such 
records might originally have been carefully preserved, they 
must have perished from ceasing to be useful, after the 
Eevolution had made such things contemptible. He would 
have been a bold man to brave the storm of derision t^^af 
must have assailed any individual boasting of being desrjeiid-. 
ed from a particular bi-anch of the Smiths, because, they ^ 
happened to be rich-el' than the rest; such miserabl^i vanity' 
■was opposed to the genius of the new-made Ptejrublic, and' 
w^as not to be tolerated. A man would scarcely have in-, 
•curred tlie -scorn of his countrymen for the solitary gratifica- 
tion of a coat of arms. In abolishing titles our forefathers . 
rightly abolished their trashy appendages. But if coats of 
m-ms be essential to our happiness and respectability, let us 
i;evive titles, and establish a Heralds' College of our own, not 
meanly pilfer gentility in pinches from England's scanty store. 
The nice young man who is guilty or such petty larceny 
should be smothered in a bandbox of musk, as the only pun- 
ijfcment worthy of such a deed. 

There is also an increasing anxiety, in our upper circles, 
as to what a man does — and who his father was. Provided 
his pursuit and his parents be honest, the man should be 
allowed to speak for himself. His possessing the manners 
and cultivation of a gentleman, and the means to support 
the appearance of one, should be a sufficient passport into 
any society, if there be nothing disreputable connected with 
him. The position of his father should no more be regarded 
as an apology for the blackguardism of the son, than the,, 
obscurity of that parent should interfere with his advance - 
ment. More honoi is due the man who attains distinction j 
in defiance of the obstacles of '* low birth and iron fortu' o '' 



348 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

It is the man who ennobles the occupation, and not the occu- 
pation that ennobles the man. It is worse than ridiculous 
to exclude a man of intellect and acquirements from the 
higher circles of society because his father was a mechanic, 
or because he has been one himself. It is absurd to attempt 
to determine inexorably what occupations shall or shall not 
be admitted into society. Such things regulate themselves 
as naturally as water seeks a level. Men are unwilling to 
expose their own deficiencies by intruding into circles where 
they must suffer from contrast. And people are not going 
to force themselves into assemblies where the coarseness of 
their manners or dress would attract general observation. 
They could not be coaxed into such positions, and it there- 
fore becomes unnecessary to pass laws for their exclusion. 
There is a decided inclination in many portions of our 
country to attach undue importance to the " learned profes- 
sions," without regard to the individual qualifications of 
their members. And those professional gentlemen are most 
inclined to presume upon this importance whose claims are 
smallest. I have often felt amused by the airs of superiority 
which very young lawyers and doctors are inclined to as- 
sume. Although both professions are somewhat too much 
given to this sort of thing, it is especially observable in pro- 
vincial "members of the bar." The time required by most 
men for familiarizing themselves with the technicalities and 
legal obscurities with which lawyer-legislators have for 
venal purposes loaded the statutes of every country, is not 
greater than for learning successfully to cobble a worn pair 
of shoes. And yet there are ignoramuses preposterous 
enough to arrogate to themselves the infallibility of so 
many Daniels, merely because they have memorized the 
leading precepts of Blackstone. They seem to forget that 
their great authority, invaluable in his way, does not neces- 
sarily impart a knowledge of English literature ; that be- 



HERALDRY. 349 

cause they are able to nose out a flaw in an indictment and 
cheat justice with her own tricks, is no absolute reason for 
their having a discriminating taste in the fine arts — yet in 
their eyes to be a lawyer is to be all that is desirable. 
Ridiculous as such claims must appear to all sensible 
people, they yield in folly to the weakness of those who are 
deluded into the belief that there is more in them than 
bombast ; and who stubbornly persist in the belief that all 
lawyers must be oracles, and that all other people must be 
fools. 

Young lawyers and doctors appear principally to base 
their pretensions upon a contemptible piece of tin, eighteen 
inches by six, which bears the curious inscription of " John 
Smith, attorney-at-law," or " Dr. John Jones." Yet it is 
really quite amazing, what a superstructure of arrogant as- 
sumption some of these learned gentlemen succeed in build- 
ing upon so insignificant a foundation ; and I am sorry to 
find so decided a disposition in some of our Southwestern 
States, to humor such absurd presumption. In the incom- 
prehensible technicalities of the law, in the Latinized jargon 
of prescriptions, in drug-mixing and pill-rolling, I am free 
to acknowledge that the learned professions far excel the 
less enlightened portion of their countrymen. But, by what 
process they are presumed to monopolize all the cultivation 
and intellect of the country, continues one of those myste- 
ries which fashionable calculations only can solve. So long 
as humanity is afflicted with such curses as lawsuits and 
sore shins, lawyers and doctors must be considered eminently 
useful members of society. But I am unwilling to concede 
that a man must necessarily be destitute of all taste and 
refinement, because he happens not to be familiar with the 
operation of pounding a mortar, or writing a deed. 

It is a fact, of which the legal profession may be justly 
proud, that almost all of our greatest statesmen have com- 



350 ENGLISH ITEMS. 

menCed their career as lawyers. I acknowledge that the 
application to books, which is essential to their success as 
lawyers, often excites that love of general reading, which 
almost always produces an elegantly-cultivated mind. But, 
because an aspiring upstart has in his pocket a sheepskin 
permission to nonsuit his clients, that he must, in conse- 
quence, have a refined taste and brilliant intellect, is much 
more ridiculous in us to acknowledge, than for him to -assert. 
But this is one of the hallucinations peculiar to new states, 
which time and more extended observation never fail to 
correct. Attaching such importance to mere pursuits is too 
much like the senseless respect of the English for birth. 
Because a man is a lawyer or doctor, is no better reason for 
his being an elegant and well-read gentleman, than for a 
descendant of the Duke of Marlborough being a hero. 

Our republican institutions demand that the maii^ with- 
out regard to his father or his profession, should speak for 
himself. If he be deficient in mind or manners, a distin- 
guished father or a learned profession ought not to save him 
from neglect ; as humble birth and lowly pursuit ought not 
to hamper genius. 



AN EXPLANATION. 351 



AN EXPLANATION. 

The Church and State are as closely connected in abuses 
as in law. After reading of one, a person naturally 
looks for the other. I had most certainly intended to de- 
vote a considerable portion of my book to the corruptions 
under the British Government, but, in approaching them, I 
find I am unable to treat them with the attention they so 
richly deserve, and therefore prefer to omit them altogether, 
rather than to review them hastily. They are as numerous 
as startling, and would require a small book to expose them. 
But I cannot forego the hope of referring more fully at some 
future time to these outrages perpetrated by the State. My 
readers have a right, I confess, to expect some exposition 
here, and nothing but the want of space prevents my doing 
so. None but those intimately acquainted with their ex- 
tent can realize the difficulty of compressing them into a 
chapter. 



THE END. 



II. A;n,:>iA.'t. if Cb.'.s f'-dnicntions. 



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Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: iiij 

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